Tim Barrus Blog
Posts tagged with rain
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burning languages
the shadows of the old oaks mirrored in lake lure’s indigo dust/ fishing here is sleepy with the precognition of demoniacal things to cum/ drops hitting water/ it is not the witching hour, when the sky lets loose desire not unlike the sword drawn up, to beat back fire, burning…
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Tim Barrus: 100,000 Copies
Publishing Was Dark I was living in NYC when the Mineshaft opened. I am a chronicler of wet people from the rain and soaked and traveling with you is dangerous, but that was when I was dangerous, too. The cab has to be slick, new, and as yellow as Baby…
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A Bar in Paris
I took a tab of acid before I left to hit the bar right at five. Up and down my alley by five is when the screaming starts. Men and women mainly women. Most were pissed off about something or other. You are accountable to the Homo sapiens who love…
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I Never Sweep My Steps of Leaves
i never sweep my steps of leaves don’t trip leaning lightly on the memory that time we dodged the rain i held your wrists and and tasted your sybaritic mouth wet as a morning drowning in the lure of the sleep of tongues whose unspent hollow minutes walk down steps…