Tim Barrus Blog
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The Getting Out Of Dodge Poems
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i have traveled like the snail
resolved in a spur of the moment
arriving and departing and
habitual he returns again
i travel slowly and stop a lot
the light through a wilderness
of angry sparks flying up as
they appeal to stars to save them
but nothing can
i…
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U R
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u r not some shallow
dumpster dive u r
not trash u r not what
mom and dad tell u
what u might b u
r not grace u r not
above it all u r not
stupid u r not some
teacher’s prejudice
u r not always strong
u…
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sleeping on the floor
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there is a cement brick
embedded in my back
we often sleep in empty
rooms where we have
slept before the sunlight
slipping in like dust is an
old story to the likes of us
no furniture no computers
just our phones no future
no dreams no relief from
sleeping…
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I’m Washing My Hair That Night
If there was a way to skateboard in a flood, we would find it.
Business as usual.
Intervention Is.
Sometimes impossible.
I have learned the hard way that you cannot impose interventions on adolescent boys twenty-four hours a day.
It’s not my fault. I didn’t raise them.
I am merely…
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Ukranian Boys and Russian Soldiers
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Dans leur guerre contre l’Ukraine, les soldats russes posant comme touristes ont utilisé la Армянск route 2 Преображенка pour se rendre à Одесская область. Une fois à Odessa, ils ont été vus dans la rue Derybasivska (très fréquentée) où ils ont offert de payer la hryvnia aux garçons, puis de…
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The House of Sucking Cock
Get Real.
The Building is abandoned and condemned.
Every trick between Bangor and San Francisco knows where to find it, and find it, they do.
Thirteen teenage boys turn tricks there. These are not outcalls because the boys are home.
To say that sex work itself can be dangerous is…
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We were gifted hot dogs.
Yesterday, we were gifted hot dogs. It keeps us out of the grocery store dumpsters. They caught us in the dumpster, and got quite pissed off. Another grocery in Asheville, same story. The boys make too much noise pawing around in dumpsters. In Asheville, they gave us grape drink (there…
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No. We’re not.
No. We’re not.
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It’s Better That Living On the Street
It’s a bit remote. But we have been gifted a tent. It’s much, much better than living on the street.
Fuck ICE.
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BONES AND GNOMES
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This piece appears on Joe Levitt’s website: Hit Record
Suicide. Since the age of six, every night night after I go to bed, I become viscerally aware of how deeply wrong it is to be here. To endure the pain of my body, and the extent to which there is…