Tim Barrus Blog
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Tim Barrus: The Speed of It
Maybe here and there. In fragments. To Indigo Dust. In a glass museum case. I am finally a museum. It all comes like flashes are some sorrow’s end. Seas in seas. You will not believe any of this, especially the dark stuff, everyone wants to cling to hope, but hope…
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Tim Barrus: Angels Are Never Real
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TIM BARRUS: CHEMICAL KINSHIPS.
Tim Barrus: New York Times I am a communist. It’s been a generational 300 year war of ideas. China has employed the legalized ideas of communism and has forged that relationship in fire and blood. To little effect. The little red book is a legal ruse. “On Contradiction” is more…
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Tim Barrus: The Idea Of an Elusive Dark Matter Particle
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Tim Barrus: You Become the Camera
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TIM BARRUS: THE WORST THAT CAN HAPPEN IS WE DISCOVER DARK MATTER DOES NOT CONSIST OF MATTER AT ALL, BUT OF SOMETHING ELSE
Neutrinos not unlike some kids, pass through the earth as if it does not exist.
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Tim Barrus: You Had Always Lived Somewhere Between Desire and Another Winter’s Snow
The seizures threw people off. We would just push through the day and forget about it. Does it hurt to think about going home. I walked into your throat. Pills like wolves.
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Tim Barrus: What I Loved Was Unbound
Storm angry sky of eyes. Catching rain with my tongue. On the bike, it’s a whip of stings. Standing here with you, it’s the sun soaked bones of stray dogs in an empty world. Just say it. There is nothing here for me. Not even you.
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Tim Barrus: Mutant Jackals
In the Mountain States. Selling our skin. Flamethrowers.
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Tim Barrus: A Process Of Clips
Tim Barrus: Book Club. Shut up. I had joined the girls’ Tree House Forces Just To Piss The Boys Off. I liked intimidating them in the overflow of invincibility. Even in strangeness. I carried a hunting knife, and I am glad I did. But do not fuck with me. It’s…