Beware of the old newspapers
Stacked on that little three-legged stool over there.

Don't disturb them.
I know it for a fact
that snakes have spawned in between those sheets.

Don't even look in that direction.
It's not because of the breeze
that their corners are fluttering.

It's alive, that nest of newspapers.
Newborn snakes, coiling and uncoiling,
are turning their heads to look at you.

That white corner has spread its hood.
A forked tongue
shoots out of its mouth.

Keep your eyes closed.
Get rid of the whole goddam pile if you want to
in the morning.