Tim Barrus Blog
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Tim Barrus: Gatekeepers are Overlords
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I regret writing the word autism. A hand grenade. I regret writing period. Being attacked is draining. I burned my books. I hate them. 37 meds a day cost 7K a month. Where are the writers who live with mental illness, too. In Electric Lit, I do talk about hearing…
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Tim Barrus: Grandma’s House
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I would climb this tree. My grandmother would emerge from the house with a broom. “You are going to fall from that tree, boy.”
They thought autism was retardation. It can be. But not this time.
It was not my mother’s fault. She tried her best. I was anything but…
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I ran the dogs at the soccer field this morning. They are now cold-ass-exhausted, but they sure had a great time. No chasing geese.
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Tim Barrus: Member of the Wedding
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I can’t believe we have mesmerized females with so much wedding porn that we have to consult Karl Marx to know if the culture can take the strain from one more wedding leading straight to bankruptcy. Just buy her the refrigerator.
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Tim Barrus: Joined at the Hip
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Only fools fall for you.
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Tim Barrus: Buying Time: NYT
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I am a communist. It doesn’t matter what we believe in. I live by myself on a mountain in Appalachia. I can walk outside and see North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, Virginia – and West Virginia. Or clouds which are really smoke stack smoke. Trees gone. We raise ten…
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Tim Barrus: Finished With Some Pills
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Tim Barrus: A Far Afternoon
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Tim Barrus: The Voice, the Kid, and the River
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I am a communist. I am a criminal. No one taught us how to swim. I have long white hair and a long white beard now. My dick is white and cut and pierced and I am from Krypton the real Krypton and they eat snakes they can have mine.…
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Tim Barrus: Curvature
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