It’s been some time –

I no longer read books at night

I don’t disturb

the sleep of paper

I no longer whisper

with things

Then

Between the coffee and afternoon cigarettes

I don’t arrange meetings

with my mind.

Only words can honour

the sculpting of things

My head no longer

falls asleep

on the chest of any poem

Then

I won’t be led astray by sloppy words

I listen –

The words are sputtering.

Scattered viruses

circulate in the library

I know –

This disease

is contagious!

I am not immune!