June 10, 2026

to our elders

I had to explain to a room full of doctors, some of whom had seen the ghosts in 1981, that AIDS was first known as GRID – one looked at me dead in the eyes & I gave him back my dead eyes as he said, that’s not something I’ve heard of – Gay Related Immunodeficiency. I could have made them more uncomfortable & told them that it was also known as the 4H disease – Homosexuals, Haitians, Heroin addicts, Hemophiliacs – left the room full of cakes & cokes a lot less polite. I could have been a complete bitch & let them know it was called the gay plague – what would a room of doctors born after 1998 have done with that? I could have told then I was in kindergarten when Ryan White died of AIDS & the kindergarten teacher tried at soft & tender about boy, who looked a lot like our older brothers, explain how & why he died, then our parents still whispered fag beneath their breaths. I could’ve told them the song they compliment coming from my office – The Stone Quilt – is the same quilt laid out on the National Mall the last time it was all of it – each piece was the size of a grave – the stones for the ghosts – the mass grave of combusted futures. I could have told them that my mom, so sensitive she worries she isn’t watering her plants on time, said, No, we didn’t lose a whole generation, just look around & I’d find my elders & she showed me lesbians & men long closeted & ghosts. I could’ve sung The Beauty & the Beast like a dirge – lyrics birthed from Howard Ashman, dying of AIDS, but living through art – pushing to see a final rough of his work in his hospital bed – not yet his deathbed – hearing his voice arise from the clicking ether of a film roll, knowing he still had work to do on Aladdin, which he’d never finish. I could’ve thrown up on that projector the jacket IF I DIE OF AIDS - FORGET BURIAL - JUST DROP MY BODY ON THE STEPS OF THE F.D.A. I could’ve slammed my See You In Hell Ronald Reagan jacket, beaded with fire, over the cake & waited for questions. I could’ve cited statistics – doctor’s love statistics – approximate death tolls between 1990 & 1995: 30K to over 60K – 1990 & 1991: Infection rates 80K each year – but all this is approximation when numbers become more than can be seen in a gymnasium. I could’ve screamed about less poetry, less guttural laughs, less arthouse horror, less parents, less glass-smashing trans women raging for rights, less children. To them it’s a scary story to tell in the dark. I was just old enough to see my hometown’s gay bar torched in the deep dark of the night as there were no patrons to protect it. I was drowned in precognitive grief & only felt gossamer slips. Yes, I’m a coward because instead I showed them clips of kids learning about Howard Ashman. I didn’t force them to learn about these dead unionized through the way they died & not how they faced it. I could’ve told them AIDS’ data collection’s only 45 years old, but AIDS is older, the other disease is worse & older still.