This post is duplicated on both
blogs today.
Some heterosexuals are (still) all but obsessed
with the belief they cannot possibly contract HIV-AIDS because they are
not gay. Yes, it’s unbelievable, but true. When it happens to them, they haven’t
a clue how to handle it. The same can be said for some gay men and women of
course; a lot of gay guys, too, live in a complacent little bubble of their own making.
I have written many poems about
HIV-AIDS but it is today’s poem that last appeared on both blogs in February 2010
which has caught a reader’s eye. I have been asked to repeat it by ‘Rudi’, who apparently
has a friend in denial about recently been diagnosed HIV + while being treated
in hospital for something else. Rudi says, ‘It is like he can’t believe it
could happen to a super fit heterosexual like him even though he sleeps around
and doesn’t always use a condom. It has never occurred to him that one of his
casual girlfriends might have been infected by another casual male partner...as
if he’s the only one into casual sex!’ Rudi adds, ‘They have tried to help him
at the hospital, but he won’t listen. He has convinced himself there has been a
mistake, and they are a bunch of incompetents.’
Playing the blame game is always a
waste of time. Rudi’s friend needs to see a doctor and counsellor and get
medication/advice NOW. Just because people can live for years with the HIV-AIDS
virus these days is no cause for complacency and is wholly dependent upon the
right medication and a mature attitude to sexual responsibility.
Even talking to a complete stranger
in a 'greasy spoon' café is as good a start as any although why so many straight
guys seem to think we gay guys should be any more comfortable with the idea of
HIV-AIDS than they are remains a mystery to me. Maybe they think that, because we have lived with the possibility longer and perhaps more intimately; it is ingrained in our psyche, forewarned, so to speak, being forearmed? There may even be something in that, but living with HIV+ is no easy ride for anyone.
This is an autobiographical poem
and the guy who told me he was HIV+ plainly thought I’d be ‘a good guy to talk
to’ because he thought I ‘looked gay’ and ‘would know about these things.’ I
tried to reassure him and gave him some good advice for which he was grateful,
but squirmed a lot. We shook hands when we parted, and he told me in a well meaning if also very patronising way, ‘It’s been nice talking to you. Hey,
you lot aren’t so bad, are you?’ I took it to be a rhetorical question and
summoned a diplomatic smile.
By the way, Rudi didn’t say if he
is gay or straight [does it matter?] but did
mention that he is tested for HIV-AIDS on a regular basis, but a lot of his
friends ‘can’t be bothered’ and/or ‘would rather not know anyway.’ Good for you, Rudi, and I hope you manage to
knock some common sense into those idiots.
This poem is a villanelle.
CASUAL CHAT IN A GREASY SPOON
He blurted he’s HIV+ but isn’t gay
and blames people like me
(what was I supposed to say?)
I met him in a cafe one spring day
(me wearing a bright pink tee);
He blurted he’s HIV+ but isn’t gay
He was sad. I said, ‘Hi, a nice
day’
and he got really angry
(what was I supposed to say?)
He said he doesn’t do nice, no way,
to ‘my sort’ especially;
He blurted he’s HIV+ but isn’t gay
I struggled to keep my hurt at bay,
fend off his hostility
(what was I supposed to say?)
Sex is a game it takes two to play,
we agreed over Fair Trade tea;
He blurted he’s HIV+ but isn’t gay
(what was I supposed to say?)
[Note: From: On the Battlefields
of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly
Books, 2010]
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