Hillary Berg, Elk, Paradise Valley (Artist Website)
Archival Inkjet Print from Kodak Portra Film
The night of my birthday
I stood in the walk-in cooler,
hot-bellied with a lust for
that cheesecake
all the ranchers like to spoon
through their chapped lips,
chasing down prime rib and mash.
I stood right there
next to the trembling corners
of un-pressed Saran wrap
and pinched pieces into my mouth,
licking my fingertips and tasting
the iron and sweet cream
under the fringe of my hangnails.
I’m in a splinter of a shack
sticking out of a great big basin—
what a hell of a time, I thought,
touching my front pocket
of grease-thumbed America
and slapping my thigh
just to make sure I hadn’t
floated off to some holier matrimony.