Bart Edelman

POSITION

I try to assume it—
More and more each day—
When I’m overwhelmed,
Curled up in a ball,
Inching down the road,
Escape by any means possible.
Normally, I’m good for a bit,
Locked up like this,
Tending my wounds,
Snail silent until I unravel,
Slithering my way home again.
Surely, this isn’t news to you,
Watching me, always,
From a safe distance,
Unwilling to stop the process.
Still, I wonder what’s next.
How long before I’m found—
One cheery morning—
Stuck to the street.

BART EDELMAN’s poetry collections include Crossing the Hackensack, Under Damaris’ Dress, The Alphabet of Love, The Gentle Man, The Last Mojito, The Geographer’s Wife, Whistling to Trick the Wind, and This Body Is Never at Rest: New and Selected Poems 1993 – 2023. He has taught at Glendale College, where he edited Eclipse, a literary journal, and, most recently, in the MFA program at Antioch University, Los Angeles. His work has been anthologized in textbooks published by City Lights Books, Etruscan Press, Harcourt Brace, Longman, McGraw-Hill, Prentice Hall, the University of Iowa Press, Wadsworth, and others. He lives in Pasadena, California.