Little Mermaid Town

It Always Pours on a Road Trip This one comes straight out of Dodge. I am writing about Dodge, now. There is on the le road, and there is off. The le road. People have to choose, and that is the way in. Into what. That downpour — Motel Find…

U R only 1 person With Only 1 Voice So Pretend 2 Have a Thousand & This Is Hubris

You are one person. One voice. One way of seeing what might be real. Just Being a Homo Sapien’s Sapien, for all these sapiens, it seems little progress has been at what would be a self-generated evolution that at least hopefully wants to save the world. It is a disgusting,…

Tim Barrus: Carry Your Helmet

The bike was my only transportation. When I was not on the bike, I carried my helmet. Pretty much everywhere. Often, my autism prevents me from understanding what you are talking about. Your way of seeing the world is not the world I know or see. I won’t know what…

Tim Barrus: Stop Asking Me To Write Outlines

The Universe is not an outline. The Literary Universe refuses to believe that some of the tools we used to employ (like write an outline) to sell the thing, are dated. Publishing loves anything dated. It often feels like my Old Aunt Dimpleburger runs the whole thing. When I say…

Autism Spectrum We Do Not Know That Much About the Brain Although We Pretend We Do. Rubbish.

What was it like when you were a kid. They all go there. Sooner or later. I was a straight A student who supported his family. At thirteen. At fourteen I knew I would shoot myself. I did.

Tim Barrus: I Rode My First Dirt Bike At Age Six

Because we were White Trash. My buzzed head with the bad teeth and dinner was candy. My buzzed head and with the Bud for lunch. My buzzed head glowed in the dark catching worms.

Tim Barrus: Dirt Bike Town

Selling Film and Book Rights

TIM BARRUS: SELLING FILM AND BOOK RIGHTS

I live in Dirt Bike Town. Where the saw dust and the oil and the bales of hay and all the old men (younger than me) lean up against the fence to feel just a bit of it, not unlike the wind through the creaky oaks, the mud, and I…

Dirt Bike Town Seeks Agent

The animals had yet not lost the study of revenge thousands at this terrifying speed. The lie doing and suffering darkens streets and on burning omnipotence to gun running in the witching hour of twilight inebriated with insolence oh, let us see sobriety in amy man.

ROUGH DRAFTS FROM A CHEAP HOTEL

The Gilbert is around the corner from the Wilshire Country Club. I stay at the Gilbert when I have to. Although I hate Los Angeles. This place with it’s fetish for concrete soaks up the sun, and the starring performance is a radiant heat that pulsates inside your eyes. I…

And he can sit with us Poverty Big Boys at the table.

Dirt Bike Town

NEW YORK TIMES There are pauper graves here, you just can’t much see them. A couple of chicken scratched brown sand donkey plots, almost red, but put away, and no one comes here, that will be seeded soon. The War Between the States, the Civil War to you, just goes…

The Little Bitch Was Miss Sugarnut

I had been his teacher. Just fuck me. It was a small farmer town Farmer Town. We never were the boys on farms. The whole dog and pony show. Stop. Backup. Tony Lama’s. You mean, what happened. No one knew. No one knew them, and they had no identification. They…

bikerbutt

    Tim Barrus: New York Times      I am totally impotent. I am a communist. I am with Antifa. I ride a dirt bike. You are what you drive. The sky was grey with industrial poisons. Slavery had returned. There were kind masters and there were evil masters, and that is a…

Dirt Bike Town