I Wrote A Poem About Syphilis

More accurately, I wrote a poem about the fear of syphilis. I hope you enjoy it.

Syphilophobia

Fear of syphilis

I decided to lose her number.

Something about the way she looked

at me and every other guy

and something about that

nail polish, fingers and toes, red as a rash

made me think twice about calling her.

My roommate had It, I think.

He spent a semester on Medical Leave

and came back with new medications

and new restraint.

“I’ll stay home tonight

you guys go have fun.”

There were whispers.

I didn’t sit on our toilet seat for a year.

Can you catch it like that?

Should I be cleaning our shower

every day?

Formula 409 ain’t cheap.

But Penicillin isn’t either.

The paper said one in four college students

but what does a college paper know?

That number seems a little high.

But if they’re right,

and I don’t have It

and the only two girls I’ve ever slept with

don’t have It

then the next one will.

That’s not a phobia.

That’s just math.