Tim Barrus Blog
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Guyz and Dollz
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Jesus Had Sickle Cell
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I Am An Egyptologist
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When Everyone Else Has Washed Their Hands Of Him
He doesn’t really look at me in the eye. He seems quite bored. What does it mean. It means he’s scared to death. Attitude is only attitude. “Gotta light.” I always gotta light. It seems infinitesimally small. But it’s something. But it’s something. But you gotta give the kid credit…
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Americans Are the Stupid Monsters of the Planet
Famine. It’s not my fault. Hmmm. How stupid are they. You have to literally drift around the world a few times before it hits you like a kick to the testicles. Stupidity and morality are synonymous, evolutionary processes. You can’t have one without the other. Stupidity is the self-inflicted blinders…
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Moving Through the Fog Like Thieves
I drive through the fog on my big black bike. It’s a lot like sex at all the straining angles. Cutting through the Blue Ridge fog, we become less and less. Glowing in the dark around a bend. Leaning into the shadows of the moon. We slept like cards in… -
My Childhood Home Was Always Filled With Guns
I thought he would kill me. He threw me through walls. He broke every bone I had. But I was more resilient than he was. I was tougher than he was. I was twice the man he was. Even as a ten-year-old. I refused to give him the respect he…
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LES BOUGIES N’A JAMAIS FONDU AUSSI LUMINEUX
je suis tombé dedans sans bruit/ pas même le vent/ c’était tellement instantané/ c’était comme si on me cherchait dehors/ je ne le recherchais pas/ une autre personne me suffisait toujours/ plus qu’assez/ beaucoup plus qu’assez/ c’était ma curiosité d’être dans un trio qui était une violation de plus de…
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Mon Incapacité à se Propager
je boirais du vin rouge de ton trou comme du sang vous avez été cassé ciel et colline votre enfance de la bouche et tout le monde chante à leur horreur ils sont tous seuls ils sont tout seul -
What U R Putting On
It’s not about your socks. It’s not about your sacred hoodie. It’s not about your underpants. It’s not about your shoes or your cock. It’s about your second selves. The ones that are whispering in your year that the sex work you are doing is killing you. That is not…