If you believe you are safe
ring silence draped over night.
bring our end.
I a mess
want your attention,
applause.
There is a purpose for you
real
brutal
clear.
Two hundred thousand million more million six million a hundred million
spite science
search good
old campaign slogs
hope the epidemic is winning.
This great, quiet Democrat male
female gays rag you old
drafted society mother
one black infant sings
in Philadelphia
the lonely gay
candle wind his family
distant Danger women
Child killer
American cancer
disease Love
kill or ignore
hide alien state
cruel as God
mad person deserving victims
long pity
read worthy.
My call to you,
Party,
public
the President and Mrs. Bush.
embrace me in memorable ways.
In the lace of judgment, in cult moments, raise spirits.
In dark hours, I see grief grace the President
the American family
Believe our role as pat
act eloquently
we speak a ton
hemophiliac, gay
inject history
teach this:
this kill is no family race
no America
embrace more than a million
littering bodies
of the young
rock support.
not all of you have been blessed.
dare not love
dare weep
Grieve a lone mess
feel shame.
tolerate
pace
fear silence
reach out for quiet denial,
mother
victim
mess.
rage is the act when we
Party
You the millions
you grieving
frightened, suffered ravages
millions strong
sound this pledge:
I will not rest,
where intimacy is suffering.
I will not hurry to my children,
I pray shame on the sound of my voice,
appeal: less grace
afraid to say the word
whisper.
Good night.
Text excerpted from Mary Fisher’s 1992 Republican National Convention Address, Whisper of AIDS
—Tara-Michelle Ziniuk
Tara-Michelle Ziniuk is the author of three books of poetry, most recently Whatever, Iceberg with Mansfield Press. She’s a former harm reduction worker, currently working in arts and media. Her work has been featured in Joyland, EOAGH, Prism, Taddle Creek, and in The Best Canadian Poetry anthology. She lives in Toronto with her daughter.
