Virginia Chase Sutton
Upon The Death of Fay Wray                                                          
 
              — 1907-2004
 

Face it, she was destined to be the ape’s darling,
engraved forever, blonde actress plucked, struggling
in his mighty paw, ah, those screams. Love is love,
someone told me yesterday in a so-so
Indian restaurant, reached for her lover’s
hand. But this ape was sizzling, captured,
completely in love. Caged, on fire, Kong
had a bad landing in New York City,
 
depressed, only a sideshow act,
humiliation for an ape once called King.
He had to cut loose, grab Fay. What’s it like to be clenched
in an enormous hand, the guy reeking sexual dreams?
Into his palm, he whispered love is love, cradled her.
No honeymoon hotel for these two,
she was making such a ruckus, people in the next room
would complain. So sight-seeing, he slowly climbed
 
the Empire State Building one handed. People
saw his huge paw go by, heard him hum a gentle love tune.
When the city arrived to fight, did they remember
Fay afire in the giant’s paw? Love is love
on his mind, he was unwilling to be contained.
Maybe he recalled her perfume. One whiff
and he was hooked, delicate floral with a hint
of spice he first noticed in the thick of his island.
 
I believe she loved him, wanted him to work
on his ape-like behaviors, like ascending buildings, and his breath
knocked her out of her shoes. She thought she could change him;
same old sob story. Finally she admitted love was limited,
oh she knew he was too proud to be a sideshow act again.
And the clincher, sex, what we obsess the entire movie, wonder
how they do it, bold as brass right there in public
atop the tower. All the exertion and attacks
 
boosting his testosterone level out of sight.
Finally he sets Fay down, love is love. How
he enjoyed freedom, his lover safe,
ready to fight with both paws. Poor Fay,
tremulous and weeping. He really had a thing for her.
He left her atop New York’s beautiful emblem,
a stunning cock he believed she could handle
once he was gone. In any case, one sided sexual love
 
is always a pain. When the King is dead and Fay saved,
the city goes back to sleep. Now Fay’s gone,
she raised romance to an art. These days
you’ve got to push harder, have a plan, be willing to kiss
his matted fur, adore his unwashed wooly smell. It isn’t easy
to get a guy, and when you finally do, damnit,
not one understands it’s a big ape all women want—
on the couch, on the kitchen table, in the shower,
 
there’s no escape from desire growing,
growling until you have to beat hard
on your chest and scream love is love,
King Kong and Fay.