- A Good Death
A Good Death
He snuck a smoke on the porch when his daughter left for work, a shot of her brandy in his coffee, watched the morning shows in her living room on her tv, then rambled over to the roadhouse where it was dark inside and he could stare at the rows of bottles behind the bar and talk to his dead wife, dead parents, dead friends, dead almost everyone, even the crushed dog, then wander back to his room, put his teeth in a glass, his glasses on the dresser, stretch out on the bed and remember everything all at once where she found him when she got home. [End Page 44]
Tom Chandler is Poet Laureate of Rhode Island Emeritus. He has been named Phi Beta Kappa Poet at Brown University and was a featured poet at the Library of Congress and Robert Frost Homestead.