[vc_row row_height_percent=”50″ override_padding=”yes” h_padding=”2″ top_padding=”3″ bottom_padding=”3″ back_image=”56863″ back_position=”center top” overlay_alpha=”0″ gutter_size=”3″ shift_y=”0″][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ position_vertical=”bottom” style=”dark” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ zoom_width=”0″ zoom_height=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_custom_heading heading_semantic=”h1″ text_size=”fontsize-338686″ text_height=”fontheight-179065″ text_space=”fontspace-111509″ text_font=”font-762333″ text_weight=”700″ text_color=”color-xsdn” sub_reduced=”yes” subheading=”by Michael Schmeltzer”]Domestic Panic[/vc_custom_heading][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_empty_space empty_h=”2″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Bored, bipedal & drug addled
is how I spend my days
off-kilter. Kilometer by kilometer
I march politely away
from being the spouse who could sew
another meal into memory.
Be honest, no one should celebrate
the body’s ordinary accomplishments;
dying at an old age, or even birth
seems worth
barely a clap. Everyone I know
orders the same plate
of baby-blush salmon, adores
the slice of lemon like it’s the sour eye
of sunshine, but give me the mud
of blood sausage any day. Darling,
I’m done for. When I confess
I’m hanging by a thread
I mean the most delicate line of chitchat
kills me. Don’t ask
another quiche of a question.
If you do I’ll be forced to respond
truthfully, and in self-defense.
I’ll send every word curled
like a scorpion tail, poison poised
like a cordial, your ear open
like a nursing mouth.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_center” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_empty_space][vc_separator sep_color=”color-184322″ el_width=”30%”][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_right” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/3″][vc_single_image media=”58761″ media_width_percent=”100″][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]Michael Schmeltzer is the author of the forthcoming Empire of Surrender. He co-authored the nonfiction book A Single Throat Opens, a lyric exploration of addiction. His debut Blood Song was a finalist for the Washington State Book Award for Poetry.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][/vc_column][/vc_row]