Tim Barrus Blog
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metronome
a tell all told 2 cover the lies unpeeled/ earthen swells that are the graves in delicate balance with waiting and waiting and waiting/ the novelty has worn thin/ there is no sun today/ there are only voices collected like a metronome/ https://timbarrus.tumblr.com -
Tim Barrus: The New York Times
The Kind Of Cultures We Need Versus The KindOf Cultures We do Not Need. Like The One We Are Living In. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/11/opinion/coronavirus-us-cities-inequality.html#commentsContainer&permid=106986749:106986749 How detention for children inside the foster care monster machine (they are all monster machines designed to pubish children) became foster care is beyond my limited imagination. But…
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Tim Barrus Photography
Tim Barrus Photography https://timbarrus.tumblr.com
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Tim Barrus Photography
i could smell his guts a mile away/ if he looks utterly privileged and has had everything handed to his martyred person, that is because he is privileged and has had everything handed to his martyred person/ in the winter he does not care but stirs when the morning cums…
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Tim Barrus in the New York Times
Trump only cares about Trump. As a human being, he remains an empty shell. It’s all performance with only a vacuum behind it. I am not allowed to say in mainstream media that Donald Trump is evil. Mainstream media doesn’t want to hear it. It is considered to be over…
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Stealing Cars
now is a good time for us to be stealing cars/ there is this annoying thing called food/ in quarantine, all the cars are just sitting there waiting for someone like us to arrive and release the car from bondage/ we really really really get bondage/ we tried it for… -
Carnival
on his bumble way to town/ they are all always on their bumble way to town/ this one was hitch-hiking/ through the dust and sweat/ he climbs in my pickup truck/ i let him know i was going to the carnival/ me, too, he says/ his wet shirt had stuck… -
Tim Barrus Photography
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Tim Barrus Photography
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It Ain’t You Or Me
i try not to look into his eyes/ or I might get lost again/ summer ripples in the thousands/ there was no food in the grocery store this morning/ he is the high priest of sparks fly from his eyes day by day just like this day of ordinary consequence/…