Chair of Fire
Chair of Fire
My father's naughehyde
recliner was the dusky,
sudden pink of pale pigs.
Hair-oil halo
Scrimshaw headrest
He died in bed
My brother, Richard,
did not weep...
he hosed out the hulk
that had held
our father's
few possessions
My brother burned
that old recliner
in a greasy
reluctant fire
Gasoline hissing like snakes
took the place of tears
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