The End Of The Library

When the

Gave out, we

Burning the books, one by one;

First the

Of

And then the Walter Scott.

They gave a lot of warmth.

Toward the end,

February,

Consumed the

Tragedians and Baudelaire,

Proust,

Robert

And the Po-Chu-i.

Thickened on the sills.

More for the sake of the cat,

We said, than for ourselves,

Who huddled, shivering,

Against the

All winter long.