Being is constant creativity,
Or so old Gilles Deleuze has made us think,
But reading him my mind caves inwardly,
My being draining outwards down the sink.
These post-structuralists, they all like to speak
And multiply their words like plural truths,
But at day’s end, we all of us must eke
A living out, for which they are no use.
I’d love to live – don’t get me wrong – like them
And break down structures like a fallen tree,
Attack the garment, rip apart the hem
And make my own truth rhizomatically,
But sad to say, dear Gilles, you make my head
Feel like I think it must feel to be dead.
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The Consolations of Writing 
This poem made me laugh. I think I might have been laughing more, however, had I known who Gilles Deleuze was, apart from your poem. Suggestions?
Thanks! Glad it made you laugh. Deleuze was a French post-structuralist philosopher who wrote a lot on art and creativity. I’m having to read him for my Masters. He has moments of inspiring clarity, but is mostly impossible to understand!
Thank you.