I'd rather be a puddle
than a Popsicle.
Can I tell you why?
Better yet, I'll start
by asking, What should
immortality cost?
It could be mine for the low-
low price of twenty-nine,
nine-ninety-nine.
Yes, in US dollars,
no cents. I've got the latter,
not the former,
at least not in this lifetime.
I might also mention
the ugly how
to get there: First flushed,
then re-pumped blue for blood,
I'd be bagged and hung
upside down in a sparing
accommodation.
If plans hatch as laid,
science'll shell me out
from gamy non-life
to patch and catch me up.
But why would it bother,
'less to pick my pickled brain
about times ago
when men couldn't see much
beyond their vanity.
And that takes me back
where I started at:
I'd rather be a puddle,
and evaporate.
2 comments:
Great title hovering over an interesting philosophical position.
Thanks Gerry. I had just read a New Yorker article on cryonics, so that fed my bit of a screed.
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