February #44 : Verse: Eulogy for Brad - by Paul Schliesing

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Table of Contents

They Shoot Barebackers, Don't They?

A Ride on the Wild Side

Secrets & Lies

Brain Drain

All in the Family

Is Stoning Next?

Tee'd Off

Say What

Heart to HAART


To the Editor

POZarazzi: Stardust Memories

Tee'd Off

Say What

The Stiles Files

You've Got Mail!

Ad of the Month: Oh, Good Lords!

Cry Cannabis

An Affair to Remember

Techno Truth

POZ Planet: Vital Stats

Behind the Eight Ball

Voter Fraud

Show & Tell

POZ Picks

Northern Disclosure

The Wizard of Roz


Heart to HAART

Ever Laughter

A River Ran Through Him

One Toke Over the Line

Talk Therapy

New Drug Watch

The Party’s Still On

The “No Nukes” Movement

Vits Help the Rits Go Down

Female Trouble

Not My Type

Where to Find It

Big Daddy

Aunt Evelyn's Letters

Verse: Eulogy for Brad

Most Popular Lessons

The HIV Life Cycle


Herpes Simplex Virus

Syphilis & Neurosyphilis

Treatments for Opportunistic Infections (OIs)

What is AIDS & HIV?

Hepatitis & HIV

email print

February 1999

Verse: Eulogy for Brad

by Paul Schliesing

I dreamed you hadn’t died.
I saw you freckled and pale
(I guess it was the Irish in
    your blood),
Flitting among vendors,
Ghostlike in a marketplace

Which changed to a chic
    party scene.
Angry, insistent,
You were searching
For a shot, a bump,
Anything to inject

In an angry race to beat
    the virus,
To stamp out the mitochondria
And the faulty DNA.

Reagan killed you—
You’d say—
The enemy in your cells,
Now turning them to rot.

Also the medicine,
Ugly colored pills
with Dr. Seuss–demonized names
Making you queasy
And forcing Welfare,
Being too expensive for
    minimum wage
Or jobs a failing, variable body
    could do.

The port city of New Orleans
Has bars which never close.
“I’ll drink myself across the river.”
And your liver swelled
    basketball big,
You lay in confusion on the floor.

Clothed with memories,
You pulled off your shirt
Before Mardi Gras even came.
Family and friends paraded by
In wild combinations.
You closed your eyes.

My last sight of you alive,
And you were almost blind,
The lights going out.
Only Stuart’s snowy amaryllis
    was unbroken
As you passed away.

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