Poetry by Michael Schmeltzer

                       Lei Han CC




Kindness as a Kind of Weapon


So often my name has played 
on the lips of those who hate me

I must be their magnum opus,
a musical made 

by those who confuse the barrel 
of a rifle with the body 

of a flute. What music they create
echoes in the emptiest halls 

and yet they bow as if vitriol 
needed a soundtrack.   

And if such animosity can be 
a kind of music, then I have crafted 

kindness 
into a kind of weapon 

you can swing with one hand
like a foam sword 

from a state fair.
Here, it's yours.  

Hit me again and again 
until you’re satisfied. 

​


​
To the Flawless Members of the Tribunal 


I have, of course, hurt others
with the same hands I use 

to wipe my father’s 
lopsided face. 

The left half of his lips droop. 
His mouth hangs open 

as if about to speak.
I listen for my name. 

~

Age melts the handsome 
from him. He is wick 

and from him I was born
wicked.  

He cannot walk. 
He cannot drink 

the liquor he wants
so I give him water. 

I decorate him
with a Nicotine patch. 

Flawless members of the tribunal,
while you deliberate 

whether by match or torch
to raze my house,

my old life 
already burnt down. 

​

Michael Schmeltzer is the co-author of the nonfiction book "A Single Throat Opens," a lyric exploration of addiction and family. His debut "Blood Song" was a Washington State Book Award Finalist for Poetry and longlisted for the Julie Suk Award. He was recently a finalist for the Jake Adam York Prize for his unpublished poetry manuscript "In the Great War I Become Cake." Schmeltzer was born in Japan and eventually moved to the US. He currently lives in Seattle with his family and is the President of Floating Bridge Press. 

---