Tim Barrus Blog
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light fell for a moment and the windows were filled with roman candles/
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In the fresh Sunday-morning air off with brisk excitement 2do his sacred duty at the meat alter.
Who is that fat man with the pinky face. And His Wife. No. No. No. He’s not married. And His Wife.
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Bent and Thin
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Bikers In School
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dirty little rooms
The house groaned in the unreal wind. We crept about like spiders, dirty little room to dirty little room, chewing darkly on the final scale of our shabby lives.
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The Insensate Mythology of Hoarding
The act of remembering swings fat dick and recoils. We stole a lot of cars. The gig was not uncommon among chop shops that would offer us deals. Like pay me for five cars when I only showed up with four.
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Recoils Into Its Parent Crescent Strength 2B Thrown Farther Inward Once Again
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Great Ships Will Appear
The last time I sailed a tall sailing vessel around the world, I learned how to crawl up the rigging barefoot. The HMS Fantome would sink in Hurricane Mitch. I had left the ship to fly back to the Keys. About all I could do is stare out to sea…
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dollface
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Attends, bébé, nous pilotons ce navire d’État.