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