dearest mr. pascal

could it possibly have been the tumor in your stomach
which then spread to your brain,
finally killing you
on august 19th, 1662,
which led to your shameless “wager”
which believers have used in an endless attempt to
inflict
guilt
upon
all of us who simply cannot digest the babblings of your
book,
your traditions & your
“god,”
and not some kind of religious awakening?

hadn’t you been in poor health most of your life,
and hadn’t you any hesitation before positing that it’d be better to
believe than to not,
as if life was just some cheap roll of the dice in a casino,
a lottery scratch off,
whereby if you take a chance & play,
you may win the prize & if you don’t bother,
you will have no chance whatsoever?

could the cancer invading your mind have led you to
believing that what insanity was right for you,
might have been right for others?

couldn’t you have just been content being really good at
geometry & not feel the need to
pounce upon us
posthumously with your
Pensées?