Na(HIV)PoWriMo ± April 20, 2017

Abigail Frankfurt
Pablo The Bullet

we are a country called
Never Knew Better
you are King
happy I know
this our counsel
our kitchen table
pass me the needle
don’t splash blood
rig in my pocket—even at the airport
steal me the money—I am your girl
pull out my eye
cut the phone wires
this is together
call me Don’t Care
I am contagious
who owes who anything
choke me harder
my gilded bullet
I’m on your edge
both feet bleeding
yank me back up
your hands are filthy
you rotting corpse
I wasn’t ready
my worsening luck
I don’t believe in
any 9 to 5ing
any House of Jesus
roll of the die
you took the wheel
bled into me
somewhere there is whistling
my stomach sinks
each early April
I am floating
towards you


Abigail Frankfurt writes, “I am a writer living in NYC. I lost my partner to AIDS in 2008. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him.”

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Here is today’s prompt

(optional as always)

Today’s poem touches on HIV transmission via injecting drug use. Of an estimated 1.2 million people living in the US today, some 170,000 of them were infected by sharing needles, syringes, or other injecting equipment. Write a poem that touches on HIV and injecting drug use. Of course, every poet has their own approach, but we suggest following Emily Dickinson in telling all the truth, but telling it slant. You can be graphic about injecting drug use if you want, but you can also be oblique, metaphorical, allusive, allegorical, etc. First and foremost—be a poet!