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"A New Way to Die"
by Edward Nudelman

If you've ever been up there, high on the rafters-
you realize that the feeling can't be manufactured.
It returns, often unsolicited. Returns incessantly.
I once knew a man who said that he had died
no less than 44 different times, with death
not inches, but millimeters from his petrified face.
A sheer drop-off unfolds from the ledge of fear,
but perspective awaits all along the ridge if you're
a climber, if you know how to traverse a razor.
And there you go pacing away on the perimeter with
Kubler-Ross and a laundry list of impeccable excuses.
Pardonnez-moi, monsieur. Je ne l'ai pas fait expres.
Don't tell me you haven't slowly climbed up that
incline every single damn day of your life; or maybe
you just took the tram and waved to us down below.
If you've found your way to the top like most of us,
if you summit with all your marbles, then why resist,
why resist? On a clear day you can...be free forever.
You can cluck out a jumping word like Geronimo!
or Hiyee! as you somersault toward cement with your
pockets full of feathers and a breast full of white meat.
But take heart. The umpteen unclocked moments in
your illustrious life will find as celebrated a resolution
as poetic, in the blissful entropy of a hard landing,
like rubies bouncing off the floor.

Edward Nudelman is a graduate of the University of Washington and is working in the Boston area. Some of his poems have been recently published in Plainsongs, Tears in the Fence, The Orange Room Review, Alone Together, The White Leaf Review, Adagio Verse Quarterly, Because We Write, Shine, Thick With Conviction, Dispatch Lit Review and the Penwood Review. He has received awards for his prose and has written two acclaimed books on a 20th Century American artist. Mr. Nudelman is an active participant on MiPOradio, where his recited poetry has been regularly featured. He is a cancer research scientist and has published more than 60 papers in peer-review scientific journals.