Academic journal article Michigan Quarterly Review

Why I Washed My Hands in the Fay Wray Fountain

Academic journal article Michigan Quarterly Review

Why I Washed My Hands in the Fay Wray Fountain

Article excerpt

Because they were sticky from eating a peach, because a Canadian boy who changes his own oil voodooed my daughters heart, because we drove nine numbing hours to celebrate their nuptials, because the day after while napping in a park I got hungry, because I peeled the peach myself, because Fay Wray's agent told her she'd be playing opposite a tall dark hero, because I've never seen Fay Wray in any picture but King Kong, because this was her town and everyone has to be from somewhere and if you want to know the name so bad look it up yourself dammit, because I shared my peach with the one I love but felt guilty for giving her less than half, because when Fay Wray dedicated this fountain she no longer turned heads, because my daughter's father-in-law supplies cows with salt licks all over Alberta and her mother-in-law loves Debussy, because this land wherever you look equals flat, because fame is an aphrodisiac but it helps if you have the right body, because I have never had the right body, because Glacier National Park with its regiment of yellow-bellied marmots is just thirty-nine minutes away, because the clouds just now resemble floats in a parade, because this wavery water holds my stare like an abyss, because I scrubbed my hands like a surgeon then shook them dry, because in childhood my heart opened its doors to both monsters and beautiful girls, because in a dark theater you don't have to choose. …

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