In the field at the edge sat the nobody chair. Day after day the chair rested in all kinds of weather and gave off a pungent botanical scent. Day after day the chair remained empty. Sometimes shy beetles took shelter under its arms and sometimes predators would lie nearby. One time a group spotted a man in the chair. Some people took pictures while he read his book. Others asked for his autograph. He obliged. Then the chair settled into the man. Soon the group moved on.
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's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Sixth Finch, Bateau Press and Sentence: a Journal of Prose Poetics. She lives in New York City.
We’ve published two more poems by Seldin: “Nothing to explain in Crescent City” and “What is it the others hear?.”
