The poem
I am a stout materialist; With abstract terms I can't agree, And so I've made a little list Of words that don't make sense to me. To fool my reason I refuse, For honest thinking is my goal; And that is why I rarely use Vague words like Soul.
In terms of matter I am sure This world of our can be defined; And so with theories obscure I will not mystify my mind; And though I use it more or less, Describing alcoholic scenes, I do not know, I must confess, What Spirit means.
When I survey this cosmic scene, The term "Creator" seems absurd; The Universe has always been, Creation never has occurred. But in my Lexicon of Doubt It strikes me definitely odd, One word I never dare to flout, One syllable the mountains shout, Three letters that the stars spell out: GOD.
if the universe always existed we would never have even approached our current moment. think about it.