Tim Barrus Blog
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Identity: Are We What We Do
Is the whore hitchhiking to go somewhere or is there an assumption a whore is a whore is a whore. Is there anyone who doesn’t think this boy with his thumb out is not a whore.
Or does my merely suggesting it color what you think you see.
There but…
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Appalachian Savages and the Stigma
Stigma has its thick-skinned tongue licking out their fastidious shit holes it is a crisis it is a nonchalant devoutness it is inflamed, of consequence, provoked, quivering. Just stick me, God.
I am usually far more interested in their reactions to stigma than I am in stigma itself. Run, as…
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GoPro Sky
the driftwood
bones bearing down
the night will
drift
and the remorseless
sand will engulf
the emperor
who has arrived
in this desert
to breed and die
the ancient
tongues, languages
our thieves
and errand boys
with their
long heavy dreams
sweat and sink away
into thunders
like arteries and…
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2B Held
I loathe being touched. By anyone.
I hate it when they hug me. I freeze.
It is a deep flaw within me. I have been battered around enough to see intimacy as a real threat. I have tried to shake it. It will not be undone.
They turn toward one…
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But For This
but for this, when you find out life iswhat it is whatever it is no one reallyknows what the fuck it is you stumbleon the reality that but for this it’s alion’s cage, a bitter city of poets onthe gallows and fingernails you arealways biting your fingernails thechildren are hiding…
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After the Rape is a Slow, Lonely Death, and a Grim-Visaged Dirge
It took him a long time to understand what had happened to him. Slow. Slow. It was as if he couldn’t blink. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t do anything. Slow. Slow. Ninety percent of the boys in the developed world who have been raped multiple times will…
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Every Photograph He’s In
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Every photograph he’s in makes the people who see it, slightly nervous. I call it the Latent Sexuality Problem.
He is who he is. And all the photographs of him project what people want to see. Versus seeing him.
Him.
He is foolish, howling, filled with laughter, but not when…
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Except For This
except for this, i am always hanging on to stones/ i should have known better than to take a dancer home/ at least i called it a home/ someone had to/ i do have rules/ rule#1/ never ever ever ever take a dancer home unless you are completely mad/ a…
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Except For This
except for this, i am always hanging on to stones/ i should have known better than to take a dancer home/ at least i called it a home/ someone had to/ i do have rules/ rule#1/ never ever ever ever take a dancer home unless you are completely mad/ a…
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I opened My Eyes
I opened my eyes.
I was alone in Los Angeles.
It had to be the drugs. The last thing I could recall was that we were all nodding out into the dope zone which is where we lived mainly.
As I slid through that trembling of consciousness into unconsciousness, I…