Tim Barrus Blog
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Tim Barrus: It Has An Inner Light And Sorrowing Graveyards There
Caution. The downpour is silent. Stay away from the windows.
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Tim Barrus: The Brutal Whirlwind With Its Hungry Breath, and There Is A Distant Alien Land
Memory has deserted you but you did know my name as if that were but your secret edge.
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tim barrus: slept in fields
You will know it when you get there. In the Greek passages as if uprooted and having pushed themselves through the memories, we pass through the shattering, and spun about flocks of errant cries and wilderness.
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Tim Barrus: Who Told You That You Cannot Crawl Out Of Your Own Skin
Ten days and gin. You carried around your Druid stones and swam deep mysteries in rivers whose fields ran close to other shores of second selves and wandering amid the winter’s light unseen at twelve is called desire.
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Tim Barrus: His Small Dreams Was a Rage in Cups
The carnival was almost done. The only people walking through Trash Planet Central were fat girls licking licorice sticks. Their hollow emptiness was carved from class and stone. She wanted you to finger fuck her by scattering the delrium where she laughed in the observation car but you had left…
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Tim Barrus: I See I Only See
I see I only see the eyelids. I see I only see but your eyes are dark to me. I see I only see the years slide past all bearing wild and bitter like the sea. I see I only see the angry and alone in their sleeping bags and…
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Tim Barrus: I Hear The Secrets That You Keep
It’s closed.
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Tim Barrus: Before the Deep Worlds Wounded Anything but Rain and Snow and Dust Come Crawling
Darkness settles on the other side of the river we would have to cross in morning. At least the bike knows what it’s doing. We slept soundly in a ditch.
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Tim Barrus: Publishing Gatekeepers
Just the idea of the gatekeeper feels poisonous. We do not work for gatekeepers. Or do we. But what’s it about. It’s about who you know. People who think it’s about the writing are amusing at cocktail parties, that’s about it. They are not very amusing in most other other…
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Tim Barrus: The Whip Cracked Like a Bloodlit Sky.
I am a communist. Breaking out guns in a culture war will harm everyone. I have been banned by the New York Times. The New York Times is banning me because I am a radical voice. Your voice must conform. You have all kinds of writers at NYT. But you…