Read the following poem and answer the TWO questions that follow.

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 these
sheets.

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

It’s alive, that nest of newspapers.
New born 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 goddamn pile if you
want to
in the morning.