on a day like this or that they separated though having never met

Bukowski, a division:

I live in an old house where nothing
screams victory
reads history
where nothing
plants flowers

sometimes my clock falls
sometimes my sun is like a tank on fire

I do not ask
your armies
or
your kisses
or
your death
I have my
own

my hands have arms
my arms have shoulders
my shoulders have me
I have me
you have me when you can see me
but I don't like you
to see me

I do not like you to see that
I have eyes in my head
and can walk
and
I do not want to
answer your questions
I do not want to
amuse you
I do not want you to
amuse me
or sicken me
or talk about
anything

I do not want to
love you

I do not want to
save you

I do not want your arms
I do not want your
shoulders

I have me
you have you

let that
be