To some degree every book is a ghost
in which the soul of the author
seeks a new host

The words on each page
are designed to engage
& haunt those who pay homage to
linguistic graves

Too often the smell of death
hangs around old parchment
& as cellulose begins to flake
& molecular bonds gradually decay
soon countless mites
begin to feast on texts
with microscopic bites
& even the best of authors
are digested by cellulosic enzymes
over time

Perhaps insects & arachnids understand
perfectly well how to read:
wandering freely
& devouring what they please

They're unafraid
to scamper across shelves
& never worry about
what renown scholars tell,
or how narratives change unexpectedl...