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Table of Contents


Cheese and Crackers

Blood from a Stone

S.O.S.-December 1996/January 1997

Mailbox-December 1996/January 1997

Special Delivery

Tattoo Hullabaloo

Dirty Sticks, Dirty Tricks

Best Little U.S. AIDS Hospital

Blow It Dry

Desert Flora Has Anti-HIV Aura

DOT's the Limit

Murder by Member

Milk and Money

Stoned in a Park

By Any Peer Necessary

Obituaries-December 1996/January 1997

Dubin's List

Blood Money

Taxi-cum-Pro

The Bride Wore White

If the Birds Come

Life After Ryan

Life After Ryan

Dream Team

Unmasked Avenger

POZ Picks-December 1996/January 1997

Home of the Brave

POZ Biz-December 1996/January 1997

Tribute-December 1996/January 1997

Patrick Webb's Adventures With Punchinello

Cremation Sensation

Sexual Healing

A Holistic Holiday How-To

Wisdom Out of Africa

And Nary a Drop to Drink

Adding in the Health Factor

Hitting Herpes Hard

Q Tip

Managed Care Joins Death and Taxes

Play Your Cards Right

Raising Hormones

Deadly Cocktails

In the Den

In the Den

The Dating Game


Most Talked About

Magic Johnson Accused of Faking HIV (42)

World AIDS Day: Your Feedback (22)

Guidelines Prediction: Start Treatment Earlier (blog) (19)

My First Facebook Demo (blog) (18)

Bone Marrow Transplant: Potential AIDS Cure? (9)

Obama Campaign Set to Boost Domestic HIV/AIDS Funding (8)

Most Popular Lessons

The HIV Life Cycle

Herpes Simplex Virus

Human Papilloma Virus (HPV)

Shingles

Syphilis & Neurosyphilis

Treatments for Opportunistic Infections (OIs)


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January / December 1997


If the Birds Come

by Bill Gunn

If the birds come and take you away from me;
and they will;
if the earth parts and we fall in
clutching at the grass 'til the last sweet call of spring
lingers like the very last bell
gone
never to ring again;
if and if or when it does come,
thundering like a distant storm cloud
staining the spotless gardens,
the white hats,
the bright tables under the trees,
killing our long walks near the lake where the boats are,
where we could not taste the honey in our hands
for the humming of the bees;
if and when that day like thunder comes crashing into our veins,
we will not resist,
I cannot fight;
I will not beg you for that last long look.
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