“Daraprim” by Kayla Rae Candrilli

Kayla Rae Candrilli

DARAPRIM

for Martin Shkreli

When the pneumonia rocked your body in waves
I rocked with you, seasick and nauseous. I vomited

bile into your bed-pan and the nurse ushered me out,
called your immune system depressed. You said over

Who Wants to be a Millionaire reruns, let’s count my virus,
& you warned, ticking off on your fingers, we’ll be counting

forever. Meredith Vieira had no answers. Nurses
had pills, IVs. And you lived. But it was contractual.

Wheelbarrows of antivirals that you hid
from your roommates, bottles tucked under

the kitchen sink and behind Clorox and cleaning supplies—
where they’d never find them. When you were drunk

you’d threaten to uncap that Clorox. There is no
metaphor for this. Instead, I’d tuck you into bed.

I’d pet the pills down your throat. I’d kiss your lips
and whisper missions into the hollow of your body.

Now, after years, we count your virus on one hand.
There is no hollow to your body.

You say I can’t even eat anymore.
You say I’m filled to brim with gold.

Poets Respond
September 26, 2015

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Kayla Rae Candrilli: “Martin Shkreli, owner of Turing Pharmaceuticals, raised the price of Daraprim, an anti-parasitic HIV drug, from $13.50 a pill to $750 a pill.” (website)

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