Feck it! We’ll throw the empty books on the fire,
And feck them! While they burn we’ll be warm.
But it won’t be long before the flames dip down,
And we lose all sight of shape and form.
And in the dimness miss each other’s features,
As darkness marks the faces of us creatures
Feck it! Burn the full books too!
And madly dance till a pagan sun shows through,
Throwing shadows from the mounds of ash
Morning rising up at last…
It will find us sleeping in the cinders,
Entangled, charred, dreaming-
Of crazy nights and scorched words,
Burnt bridges and burnt worlds.