Lyotard as My Gift

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Flirting is a life skill,
You know, English’s just a thing you mouth.
I know that if we met on our own,
That moment would be wet
For me, no more.

Cos, I am roughly
A 12 month from canonizing you.
You, post-modernist cunt,
You will be ridden of your most unbecoming clothes,
To a book to be bound with stranger oaths

And we read, then we read
To re-read; some have multiple orgs
When you make meaning subside.
A future stands balanced on meanings unknown,
And so we write; hoping for light.

Dreams are no longer done
If there’s unrest in your nerves
Let the spirit carry on
From the time the word ended; the new paradigm was born.

Jean-Francois Lyotard



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