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kill your darlings

from portrait of a young man by arthur burroughs

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lyrics

Kill your darlings
Kill your parents
Kill any force in your life
Destructive or not
Kill yourself in the early hours
Kill time and kill time
Until time kills you
And you are left alone
In an infinite realm of time and space
no more but no less of now
until you become time and time becomes you
one in the same
time, oh I hate time
hate confinements
hate time spent
hate time wasted hate time when time is real
I hate it when it’s not too
I hate feeling like the time is running out
I hate time when the clock ticks in the dead of night
And all that’s left is the ticking and the thinking and the breathing and the ticking
And the ticking
And the ticking
Until the ticking stops
The tickets punched
The clocking in and out
When time spent working results in time spent wasted
Wasted in parking lots
Wasted in friend’s basements
Wasted in my bedroom
Wasting time in establishments learning about how I learn
Wasting my money I spent time earning
Why waste time and money in organized structure
Why structure a poem
Why waste time not perfecting prose and delivery
And why waste time to impress myself
And why not just write until I disappear
And my mind is gone
Far off somewhere else
Drifting and floating
And why is time just floating around me
Moving me to the four corners of my imagination
What is time and why does it control me
Why do I have so many questions
Why can I never answer them
Questioning myself
Why is time still relevant
What if all time spent is all time wasted
And no time spent is not wasted
Existence is wasted on the worrying about the time before and after death
The time between the first and the last line
And what if we all realized that the time in between meant nothing
Abd none of us meant anything
And that the time we wasted
Wondering our significance
Pondering our legacy
And contemplating longevity
Was the time most wasted
And if time wasted could even have levels to it
And what if we wasted all our time not killing our darlings
And maximizing time wasted to portray ideas that have no truth
What if we just wasted some time?

credits

from portrait of a young man, released March 16, 2018

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arthur burroughs Hamilton, Ontario

subterranean poet

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