DON'T COME AROUND BUT IF YOU DO...Yeah, sure I’ll be in unless I’m out
Don’t knock if the lights are out
Or you hear voices or then
I might be reading Proust
If someone slips Proust under my door
Or one of his bones for my stew,
And I can’t loan any money or
The phone
Or what’s left of my car
Though you can have yesterday’s newspaper
An old shirt or a bologna sandwich
Or sleep on the couch
If you don’t scream at night
And you can talk about yourself
That’s only normal;
Hard times are upon us all
Only I am not trying to raise a family
To send through Harvard
Or buy hunting land,
I am not aiming high
I am only trying to keep myself alive
Just a little longer,
So if you sometimes knock
And I don’t answer
And there isn’t a woman in here
Maybe I have broken my jaw
And am looking for wire
Or I am chasing the butterflies in
My wallpaper,
I mean if I don’t answer
I don’t answer, and the reason is
That I am not yet ready to kill you
Or love you, or even accept you,
It means I don’t want to talk
I am busy, I am mad, I am glad
Or maybe I’m stringing up a rope;
So even if the lights are on
And you hear sound
Like breathing or praying or singing
A radio or the roll of dice
Or typing-
Go away, it is not the day
The night, the hour;
It is not the ignorance of impoliteness,
I wish to hurt nothing, not even a bug
But sometimes I gather evidence of a kind
That takes some sorting,
And your blues eyes, be they blue
And your hair, if you have some
Or your mind- they cannot enter
Until the rope is cut or knotted
Or until I have shaven into
New mirrors, until the world is
Stopped or opened
Forever.*CHARLES BUKOWSKI*
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