One Poem by Felix Purat

Written in response to this month’s Special Challenge.

The Detritus of Time

A room effigy lies wasted by time
Crumbs of asphalt lie strewn all around
As Eris the painter crafts linoleum collages;
But nobody wants to sit in the chair

Undeciphered graffiti bids no welcome
This empty territory is all staked out
The heart of the door has been dissected;
Still nobody comes to sit in the chair

Manufacturer forgotten, time filters
The facts from expanded flesh
The germophobes run from time’s fungal fingers;
Now nobody will want to sit in the chair.


Felix hails from Berkeley, CA but lives and travels abroad wherever possible. In addition to three micro-chapbooks (all published by the Origami Poems Project), Felix has been published in numerous outlets and magazines and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. His webpage is:

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