A Short Poem About Death

Death comes for everything
except ideas
unless ideas are dependent
on specific kinds of living creatures
to think them.

If only humans can imagine justice, say,
or more likely, the inequitable distribution of resources,
then with the death of the species
our concepts will blow away
as dust on the seaside.

But maybe inequitable distribution exists
even if there is no one to share unevenly.

Maybe the concept will be available even without

a thinking individual to say "I see what you did there!"

Maybe death needn’t take everything.

So there, Mister Bones.
You can’t have it all!
Ha ha!

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About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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