Tim Barrus Blog
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Memory’s Machine
road trip with the dust and weed smoke in the car so thick, our eyes were the gas stations in the full gasoline noon/ the small town street lamps had once been crows, and all the motels had been rolling hills whose With Nothing To Return To was solid as…
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Memory’s Machine
après la fête le reste rages de poussière resté derrière se masturber à l’intérieur du cerveau enregistrer plus tôt tragédies désorientées par flou si parallèle événements https://www.instagram.com/timbarrus/
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Memory’s Machine
lost afternoons justly placed each mirror could be manifest beyond sex work is still work and sweat and humiliation just like any other form of work an arrangement of perspective sheets, walls, scrubbing floors in unison our lips in full abundance we brought along our gods from the pawn shops
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Memory’s Machine
et sa ceinture quand il fouette tu es nu vous autorisez seulement lui baiser toi dans le cul quand il y a pas de nourriture et ton ventre grogne comme un tigre bleu a sauté à travers la fenêtre à ton lit vous dites à votre agresseur te baiser dans…
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Memory’s Machine
the two of them could be silent as a blackboard/ i no longer know what it means to simply be/ their history is one of burning bones and whipped and a cigarette of fiery scars you cannot see/ who could do that to a child stop asking me that question…
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Tim Barrus in the New York Times: Boys Who Do Sex Work
I teach boys called the Hard To Reach. More stigma. Most have done lots of sex work. Many have HIV. Some have starred in porn where the age of consent is fluid, often fictional, and enhanced youth in post-production. My work is exhausting and most traditional teachers vividly do not…
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Except Sometimes
except sometimes your whispers tell us what you think it is we want to know and you are as always right about a lot of things/ like how pain and loneliness are often the same thing and your books of wandering arms outstretched have brought you here/ https://timbarrusart.tumblr.com
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Your Photographs
beneath what photographic darkness does your panic ride and makes no promises to return, in fact, i have never heard you promise shit/ like some kind of human contract with anyone on the planet might elude your perpetual despair/ an exile in the innocence of graves/ how many tombs have…
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The Motel
I always run out of needle boxes. The murders at The Motel are not your average slash and cut affairs in showers. It’s far more complex than that. It’s just not a place you would bring up the subject of HIV in any conceivable conversation. Tired tourists who find their…
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Tim Barrus in the New York Times
I work with boys at-risk who have HIV. People do not understand at-risk means a spectrum. Suicide is at the top of the spectrum. Boys and guns. The gun is an insurance policy if things get any worse than they already are. Often, they’ll hide the gun in their stuff…