Man of the Year (poem)
By Luke Labern
I
The time will come
The future arrives
The time will come
The more I strive
I look forward
It's caught on me
That feeling that
It's going to happen
Day after day
Hidden night after night
Every wasted hour
Makes the promise more profound.
Where is the future to be found?
I've looked everywhere
Except the place it hides:
II
No waiting will ever yield it
No excuses will ever shield it
The truth is not a fucking joke
And I'm tired of the way you act.
No, you won't become a man
Unless you face the fucking fact
That that will soon be that.
That's time you won't be getting back.
If you want to be a God
You'd better love power;
If you want to be the best,
Best learn to love the hour:
Let them spend their minutes
Let them enjoy their life
I'll be stabbing once again
I'll be wiping the blood
From my lip, before I go again
Before I strike again
Before I put in more
Before I blow my brains
Into your lap, and page
And tell you what you need to hear—
Whether that be "love yourself",
Or, "conquer fear".
It doesn't matter what I say
Because you'll never listen
All this time I've been waiting
And now the time is missing.
I thought "the time will come";
I thought "the future will arrive,
While I am still alive...
Before my youth is done."
No: the future is not coming.
It is not even near.
Now is the time
To be the man of the year.
The time will come
The future arrives
The time will come
The more I strive
I look forward
It's caught on me
That feeling that
It's going to happen
Day after day
Hidden night after night
Every wasted hour
Makes the promise more profound.
Where is the future to be found?
I've looked everywhere
Except the place it hides:
II
No waiting will ever yield it
No excuses will ever shield it
The truth is not a fucking joke
And I'm tired of the way you act.
No, you won't become a man
Unless you face the fucking fact
That that will soon be that.
That's time you won't be getting back.
If you want to be a God
You'd better love power;
If you want to be the best,
Best learn to love the hour:
Let them spend their minutes
Let them enjoy their life
I'll be stabbing once again
I'll be wiping the blood
From my lip, before I go again
Before I strike again
Before I put in more
Before I blow my brains
Into your lap, and page
And tell you what you need to hear—
Whether that be "love yourself",
Or, "conquer fear".
It doesn't matter what I say
Because you'll never listen
All this time I've been waiting
And now the time is missing.
I thought "the time will come";
I thought "the future will arrive,
While I am still alive...
Before my youth is done."
No: the future is not coming.
It is not even near.
Now is the time
To be the man of the year.
A Poem,
Published 24 October 2015
Published 24 October 2015