Is “Going Forward” even possible. Rhetoric.

Example: This is the kind of design and photography most nonprofits and foundations typically buy – and always timidly – because they find, not unlike keepers of exotic pets, that their image is more important than what they do. Photography scares administrators because the fear of controversy is paranoia made…

And Sleep an Act or Two

Tim Barrus Photography

Dirt Bike Town

FUCK THE COPS

Both Andrew and I have had a lot of experience avoiding cops. We knew too many people, all of them members of Antifa, who had quietly disappeared. They just weren’t there anymore. Vanished. No one dared to question authority about where the evaporated were. The ubiquitous party line was that…

The Better To Eat You With

On the way to Granny’s house…

The Boat Ramp

I left on the same boat ramp I came in on. You are a long way away. If you want it, I’m gonna be va va voom voom If you got it, you got it, you got that boom boom If you want it, I’m gonna be va va voom…

His Pajamas

Photography: Tim Barrus

Going Rogue

Post-apocalyptic cultures are supposed to be the products of fiction. Failed states. Failed people. Failed economic structures. Failed religions. Failed institutions. Failed individuals. Failed public policy. Or all of the above at the same time.

trous humides sous la pluie

toilet

PolaroidBoy

more poetry is needed

Gutted In Beds of Ice

the aproned butchers/ swung their clevers down/ on fresh cold joints/ slapping the thick chops/ and tossing them roughly/ tied/ to the boot delivery boys/ smelling of earth and morning/ wide bellied buttfuck/ clotted damply of black loam/ wrenched from gardens the smell/ of gardens a thunder on the rails/…

Back On the Chain Gang

Photography Riding Shotgun From the Back of a Bike While Waiting for the Storms to Pass. Oohhhh, I see the pictures of you…

more. more. more.

Entouré de rouge sanglant.

Riding Shotgun

compartmentalize

house

Chance

https://ello.co/timbarrus

Peder

Mr. Bunny

Sex Work On a Bike

Soon. Cumming to a theatre near you. It occured to us that there could be some survival money in showing up at the home of the trick (or more likely plural, tricks) who was paying us to watch us have sex on one of our bikes. Again, plural. There is…

Cold Motel

We called it the Cold Motel. It was cold. How cold was it. It was so cold, people were chipping their teeth sucking dick. I wish I could say we were smart enough not to ride the bike up here. But we’re just not that fucking smart. There’s an electric…