The Best Ham In Louisville - Emily Blair

The best ham in Louisville’s in a deli in the back of a liquor store, no signs, salty-sweet and heavenly cold on a biscuit, made for picnics in the March sunlight, made for walking, and even these moments must be remembered.

I beg God, Smite me
like Lot’s wife.

I step over sharp and broken things, find the remote, sit, smoke, drink a pot of coffee, lick salt off my palm, choke down the forty cent can of chili, force living, more salt, dream of ham biscuits in the sun, of picnics, that life I never tried, dream of dying, smoke all the cigarettes, go out in the rain, say hello to the cats, drink Gatorade, drink tea, drink chlorinated tap water, pray for death, wake up, go to work, live, ask everybody the name of the deli, nobody knows, is it a deli or do they just sell ham, what’s the fucking difference, go to the park, eat a sandwich alone, go home alone, stand outside the circle of conversation in twilight, smoke all the cigarettes, clean up broken glass, swear off dark liquor, repent, bargain, repent, beg for death, give in, walk to the corner store, buy a bottle, drink it, feel better, lie on my stomach reading the Bible, Lot’s wife doesn’t even have a name, get religion, lose it, go to the bar, lose it again, go to get ham and the cashier looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, why do I think they sell ham here, exactly?

Emily Blair is a queer Appalachian writer and scholar living in North Carolina. More about her and her work can be found at her website, emilyblairpoet.com. She is currently working on a full-length poetry manuscript on memory, grief, and queerness.