Tim Barrus Blog
Posts tagged with tim-barrus-novel
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Tim Barrus: Dirt Bike Town
The Novel I am writing now: Literary Fiction: Dirt Bike Town by Tim Barrus I ask you. How many autistic, neurodivergent, authors do you really know. Most of us mask it, I do. I am not Romeo Void, but I do love him. Romeo Void will be starring in the…
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Year of the Hyena: Gay Soldiers in Vietnam
Year of the Hyena, a Novel by Tim Barrus Gay Soldiers in Vietnam
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Hecuba
The Queen of Dirt Bike Town. Hecuba is an albino.
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Autism
I just can’t belong to the autistic tribe. And they don’t want me, anyway. You can’t keep all the hurtful stuff at arm’s length and that is expressed in compelling ways, I was diagnosed with autism at age 6 by school psychologists. Why. Because I was reading. Especially Marx, physics,…
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Fusion Ignition
Behind the Demon’s Head We were hiding in the trunk of a car. From Authority. Which usually meant hominids would be – all out cock hard– no, harder, much harder. Cheap Stock and Trade. Jack was the flashback of New Orleans. Busted for Grand Theft Auto. Auto. He told me…
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My book, Anywhere, Anywhere was scripted into an off-broadway play.
I don’t know how I feel about this book. The entire experience in even dealing with the gay part of gay publishing operates under the same rules and restrictions mainstream publishing plays out as rituals. No one wanted to read about gay soldiers in Vietnam. Gay men did not read…
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ICBM Silo: Dirt Bike Town
Thirty-five miles northwest of Dirt Bike Town, back in the boons, there was only one way to explore, and that would be via dirt bike which Dirt Bike Town, had a few of those. There is a circular metal hatch on the ground. There are security cameras around. But those…
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Tim Barrus: Post-Industrial, Post-Trip Back To The Sixties
The stairs lead down to an ICBM missile silo. It gets very dark down there and I find it a place of ghosts. But I am exploiting it as location for parts of Dirt Bike Town.
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Tim Barrus: The Dark In Dirt Bike Town
Photos with too much light blind me. The white escapes. It feels like an adventure film is pushing me aside to disappear from existence with a snap. I seek something darker to look at. And I seek to make all darkness my default. Just going about my stupid day. Taking…
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Tim Barrus: 2LiveABarrenSubstanceInsideaNeedWhoseGriefOfTwentyShadowsIsNotGrief
I am a communist. I am a lurid communist. You cannot wring blood from a hermitage. You cannot sleep with infidels. Whose flesh unseen the ruined temples of a king.
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In Bondage Fit Tight As A Drunken Sailor’s Neck
Tim Barrus, New York Times I am a communist. I ran. I ran away from camp. A religious camp. My actions were not their fault. I ran away from fervid religion. I ran away from religion. I ran away from sex. I ran away from sex. You are thinking: how…
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Maps Are Us
I Could Read Him Like a Map We all have one. A map into our ideology. A Map into the easement of a nonpossessory piece of property that one man holds, and another man holds, but not really. A rag-eaten shawl as map of skies and skies. Moths and graveyards.…
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Going Rogue
We roared through the GhostShip, America, on the big bike. It’s a great excuse for hanging on to someone with your motherfucker lives, and all your second selves, on the insides of your mouth. Just met a boy, just met a boy when He can come inside of my playpen…