of flings everlasting
the cost is abhorrent
of things shaped in passing
things lost in the torrent
depicting December’s
deceased drowned in blood
these six we remember
do not cease the flood
the cold of the water
the brown of the rust
the bold brush with slaughter
which drowned with a thrust
the dicks in stark alleys
baseless surrendering
the tricks in dark valleys
the faceless assembling
the “FAGGOT” in red
painted plain as can be
the pain and the dread
taint the slain with Godspeed
breadth unencumbered
we won’t condescend
death of such number
we don’t comprehend
we sever the wicks
lest the flames lose their touch
yet don’t blame the six
when the rest is too much
Written by Jason Wright
October 14, 2019
For Joseph Reese Anderson
and the countless, often unrecognized victims of the AIDS pandemic.