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Lonely Christopher reads at the Bureau of General Services—Queer Division

I’m in awe of many poets, and with that being said, I have to say I’m especially in awe of Lonely Christopher. “How does he have the time to do everything he does?” Writer, curator, critic, publisher, editor and director, husband too, and he has to have a job to pay the bills. “The problem with money is that it isn’t real, but we love to have myths ruin our lives,” he says in “American Studies.” Wealth is doing what you want. If I could simply read as many books as Lonely does, it would be Utopia enough.

I came out in a cold heavy blowing rain early last March to hear him read at the Bureau of General Services—Queer Division, and I’m glad I did. In the Vimeo below, he reads eight poems from two of his books, Death & Disaster Series and Double Rainbow. Enjoy.



The five short poems I’ve typed out that follow were not read in the Vimeo. These poems, from Death & Disaster Series, were written during the time of the poet’s mother’s death, when he was young and allowed himself to write without edition whatever was coming out.



We used to be better
put together
and one day it might be that way again.
Turn around inside of a bleak room
pasteurize everything, and here I thought
you loved me.
Really, what I was doing was
pulling a swan into controversial abstinence.
Begrudge me my duty while I prepare
to talk about what I have to say.


Find a 
new way 
to fuck
off right 
out of 
this plight. 
Steal out 
to weep 
in the 
of dirt 
in the backyard 
where the 
pool used 
to be. 


I have no idea 
if you will find these words 
but now I want you to. 


If I can’t bring my voice up toward 
a tacit god, if beauty can’t be wrought 
from experience, then it is not worth 
it; it is a gilt limb smooching and 
refusing the word.
There is a continuum with two
poles, blank 
confession and blank language, and 
strung hidden between is 
the truth. 

Happy Birthday

Miles out of the way, I came upon a short woman
who, on my birthday, was already weeping.
She blocked the path and didn’t care, she
put her miniature hand upon my chest, looked up
then, with damning gaze, said she: 
“You are in tremendous pain, I mean physical pain
and you have no idea where it is coming from 
and you have no idea how to make it stop.” 


Death and Disaster Series is published by Roof Books. You can check it out here:




For more about Lonely Christopher, you can check him out here:





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