Prison blues
I am writing to you because
I would like to receive the journal of Test Positive Aware
Network. I have been HIV positive for over 10 years and the
information in the journal has been invaluable in helping
both myself and other positive people stay alive and healthy.
I am currently in prison for the next few years and although
I do occasionally get the journal from some of my contacts,
it sure would be helpful to have a subscription to ensure
a steady supply of up-to-date, cutting-edge information.
I ask this not only for myself,
but for the many others who I share your journal with. You
see, I am also involved in peer education and quasi-clandestine
advocacy for fellow HIVers. In fact, your journal has recently
played a key role helping me to help an inmate here who recently
found out he was HIV positive. He found out the hard way by
coming down with a case of pneumonia and losing 50 pounds!
He has recovered from the pneumonia, but must now learn to
live with HIV. His confusion with his condition and his medications
was complete, to put it mildly.
I rolled up my most recent
prize, a copy of Positively Aware, January/February
2000 and smacked him on the head with it. I then said, “That’s
for not getting tested!” I then unrolled it and sat with
him for over an hour explaining to him the HIV Drug Guide
2000, pointing out his medications and letting him know he
was not alone. I want to thank you for that issue. The format
was just what I needed to help him understand both his meds
and the others that are widely accepted. I also wish to thank
you for any consideration you may give this request for a
subscription and I look forward to your reply. I cannot enclose
a donation, however, I’m enclosing this poem that I wrote.
It’s the best I can do at this time.
Respectfully,
P. Y.,
Pennsylvania
Survivors
In our desire, zest and zeal
for life we’ve come upon this dismal strife. Trespassed
and violated the invader seeks to slowly steal away our life.
With dismay this curse we dare not say for fear of driving
everyone away. We manage to cope with grace and hope as we
seek the courage to make it through another day.
So many never make it home,
slowly shrinking to the bone, surrendering with each heartwrenching
moan. They fall to the wayside in a race with death for a
cure unknown.
It cuts so close that tears
fill our eyes. We feel their cries! We see ourselves in the
fading reflection of their faraway eyes.
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