That Night at the Fair || Jerri Bourrous

A year from now when you ask
me to share the moment I knew,
I’ll say it was the night at the fair
when, queasy from the Greek fare
and rides that spun us on our sides—
“This must be what your clothes feel
Like inside the washing machine”—
we chose something tamer
and discussed the sex lives of carnies
and made up a backstory
for the Eastern European guy who took
our tickets and pointed to our seat.
Our seatbelt wouldn’t fasten
but you said it was more fun that way
and pulled the bar over our laps
just to keep us inside.
We moved forward as you rocked
us to and fro, but when
we were thrown into reverse,
you threw your hands in the air and laughed
so hard it hurt my heart.
You were the best thing I’d ever seen.
Afterward, we walked to the car,
our legs wobbly
like newborn foals.


Originally published in the FALL 2018 edition of the Helix.


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