And Edges of the Zero Gate

The dismal sky burns the tongues with scorn. Languages. Never savage chaos as it walks the moon beach shore. Coiling in the darkness, it was like remembering our cells of faint shadows and it’s time to go. Any whore will get it. You and I both know.   

Sail On Till You’re Gone

Another stake to claim your planet on the ground.

Why Are You Here

these colors not too unlike a mountain lion stretched out hot with yellow eyes upon a rock where the sun spills in

In the long Run, the Desert Will Win

Tim Barrus, New York Times I am a communist. I get graphs. Since I am poor, and live on $200.00 a month (I am writing this on a borrowed phone in a borrowed tent in pouring rain), I get the hatred. Of the poor. The rich have nothing to fear.…

All My Lovers Sleep in Shrouds

All of this is up for grabs. This is not the world I live in. It is the world I live with. I would like to say side by side. But it would just be another lie. Disengenuous. You would find the place I am in at the moment as…

they say your entire life flashes

this

Blond Photographer

shadows are ubiquitous

Go Buy a Gun

They kept beating him up. I tried to listen to it. Complain. But I became impatient because there was little fighting back. They had broken him. I gave him my Police.38. “I’m tired of hearing about it. Do something. You are dangerous. Because we are all dangerous.”

prettypink hoodiehoodie

Before covid. After covid. Polemic. Both times. Poisonous as a rabid porcupine.

beach whiskey

you flew out of my mouth

you flew out of my mouth and spilled look at mine/ your balls of enamel murdered by the sky, the aegean blue as prison/ when you came apart, it was in threads/ even in the core of any bitter winter, you could sleep through anything/ https://timbarrus.tumblr.com

the legends say

there is always a narrative/ usually one divorced from reality/ stones and bones/ many narratives were created from revenge/ if they say you are a criminal, you are a criminal/ if they say you get fucked in the ass, you get fucked in the ass/ if they make the point…

Dying Alone

his wings in the jagged glass shadows have been clipped hideously/ they say sedation is this empty vacuum where you are not conscious/ this is a lie/ get used to it/ they’re going to lie to you and force feed you murmuring the dark selves songs/ curling discontent, you hear,…

lucid questions

the lucid questions are not explorations he is going to either answer or encourage/ he holds the secrets in his folded hands and lips of salt and bed of bones where his body was the prize/

ferris wheel of rust

we were insomniacs who played on an abandoned ferris wheel whose pendulum in appalachian rain was one blind eye and sullen just like you and weary where your skin leaked raw and your bones in the dark were soup inside your nerves to be so high such as we were…

toward whose delirious repose

you in your distance toward whose delirious repose suggesting structures of scars i have seem them all i have touched them all i have followed them with my lizard’s tongue i want to thank you for teaching me a  huge, huge fucking lesson/ never get arrested/ https://timbarrus.tumblr.com

Memory’s Machine

lost afternoons justly placed each mirror could be manifest beyond sex work is still work and sweat and humiliation just like any other form of work an arrangement of perspective sheets, walls, scrubbing floors in unison our lips in full abundance we brought along our gods from the pawn shops

Except Sometimes

except sometimes your whispers tell us what you think it is we want to know and you are as always right about a lot of things/ like how pain and loneliness are often the same thing and your books of wandering arms outstretched have brought you here/ https://timbarrusart.tumblr.com

Your Photographs

beneath what photographic darkness does your panic ride and makes no promises to return, in fact, i have never heard you promise shit/ like some kind of human contract with anyone on the planet might elude your perpetual despair/ an exile in the innocence of graves/ how many tombs have…

Fuck World AIDS Day

https://twitter.com/timbarrus

The Attic Gods Came By Today

the attic gods came by today from behind time where they like to be concealed/ bearing the imprint of the din, the attic gods of history’s bin/ taking out what had been thrown away, and terrorizing us to explain it/ https://timbarrus.tumblr.com

Julian

childhood is a dog and pony show

i no longer listen to them much beyond what they do inside their skins i do not seek answers there are none that work the whole dog and pony show we call childhood are answers that are not answers they are pre- programmed stereotypes in pink times ten and in…

they have all arrived

waving words and wands what terrible days nostalgia makes for loverboys who ask you to hurt them and when you refuse you tell them (as patiently as you can) that it’s the other way around and you will not hurt this one or this one or this one because by…