The Last Live Act

Some day, when this yellow sun is dying in a crimson sky and a tangle of phosphorescent, all-consuming vegetation covers up the earth's shame and ruin, the robots will keep some poets in concrete cages, just in case they need a new idea. And then the robots will drag one of the weak, timid creatures out into the spotlight and watch it trying to stay alive in the depleted air for just one more precious minute of what the poet calls 'consciousness'. And then, when the life-force bursts like a beautiful bubble out of the poet's open mouth and it bows its head in death, grinning like a fool, the entire audience will stand up and applaud like a lot of automatons on holiday.