Tim Barrus Blog
Posts tagged with hopelessness
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Capitalism Is Killing our Children
Tim Barrus, The New York Times Tim Barrus | North Carolina Politicians say we’re lazy. They fervently believe we are out to impoverish them, rob them, grab their wealth and run. There is no Robinhood who is going to save us. No merry men. No Friar Tuck. But there is…
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Tim Barrus, New York Times
“I don’t see how I can make it work.” Right. It’s humiliating. Degrading. We are a region, not a state. How do you address poverty in West Virginia, and forget the states it borders. Haves and have nots all over again. Survival is ephemeral. Nothing works. I borrow the school…
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GOING ROGUE
THEANTIFASTORIES I can only see a dark and dystopian future. Apocalypse in the time to come is distainfully a cliche that clings to hope. The proposition that there is any hope whatsoever is a destiny of the obscene. Destiny is now. Destiny is here. Destiny is death. Destiny is an…
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feeding the lion
it’s like feeding the lion the ferocity of bone/ there are no other beds for him to sleep in/ his brother’s cock is a hardening of the weight he carries in the gravitas of the secret whips he knows he cannot speak to or for or of/ thin-framed and the…
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The Family Ate the Family Dog
the family ate the family dog appalachia is unconditional surrender replacement parts and arguments poverty and the truck shop passing through the bedroom window swallowed by the cardboard that has replaced what glass is left school bus in the morning frost of growling smoke pickled meats and vomit, dark corridors,…
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holding me up
in the war against boys, first you cut off their legs/ well, i am ill, but i’m not dead/ and i don’t know which of those i prefer because that limb which i have lost, well it was the only thing holding me up, holding me up/ https://timbarrusart.tumblr.com
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Junkie’s Winter
that december of thursdays we lived on the subway like dishrags, incredulous that this had happened to us/ slamming in the subway toilets/ like cats/ vicious as a tattletale/ someday someone is going to put a bullet/ through your head/ and the rest of us and our second selves —…
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gonorrhea of the ass
When he arrived, he smelled badly. Like garbage on a hot summer day of dogs and death. When he first arrived, it took him a few days to remove his GoodWill coat. It was all he had. The coat smelled badly, too. The other boys eyed him warily. “Are they…
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Another Night of Whores
the fuckbucket slinks around the block not unlike the tongues of midnight in ten thousand of them creep along the sidewalks, too if only i could steal myself free of some trick’s eating of my ass i would do it like a tyrant’s vein so blue in temperament all that’s…
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sleeping on the floor
there is a cement brick embedded in my back we often sleep in empty rooms where we have slept before the sunlight slipping in like dust is an old story to the likes of us no furniture no computers just our phones no future no dreams no relief from sleeping…