A tongue of orange
flame licks at the air above
each apostle’s head.

Firemen demolish
a ring of dwellings around
the periphery.

The firing squad points
its long metal fingers. Who
knows which are loaded?

The firebrand, his cheeks
burning, is called in to see
the boss. Fired! Is fired!

Toasting crumpets: cut
coat-hanger wires hooked onto
the bar-fire’s fireguard.

Fireside, hearth, home, a
dolls house, arson (firework in
through the letterbox).

Fire. Cognate with Old
Frisian fiōr, Umbrian pir,
Armenian hur.

The audience roars
Applause! Applause! Baby, you
were on fire tonight.