Poem: Ontological Arguments Are So Last Century

The crowd gathers – when all is allowed, no one asks after safety, just decides it’s okay. It must be. Or we wouldn’t be here.

And what are we doing now? And what are we after? And what thought is given to who comes after us?

It’s a race to the end, in a blur of fiber optics – every single trace of us meaningless but held here forever.

Legacy measured in c…