Tim Barrus Blog
Posts tagged with tim-barrus-poetry
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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
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And He Would Fly Away
his heart is rubbish/ he has always lived in his own world/ he knows the outside world is there/ he has simply chosen not to participate/ but such decisions have consequences/ you try changing his wet and shitty diaper/ i double dog dare you/ any romanticism you once held for…
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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…
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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…
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the grinding gods
et dans cet abandon dix fois tout voyage implique un mouvement nous supposons gonflé de but certains d’entre nous sont simplement debout gelé au sol où le patrimoine est un chien errant parti faim et boite loin de les dieux broyeurs dont stationnaires ailes colorées en jaune par la nicotine…
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Waiting For the Trick to Come
you are hoping he washes his ass in the shower because you are painfully aware that he’s going to demand that you eat it/ waiting, always waiting/ it makes no sense because they’re all on the clock anyway/ making you wait is going to cost them, but you’ve never been…
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your clandestine appearances
you are if nothing else. consistent. the modified us asked you to stop coming around and sucking out the ideas we have in our heads. leave us alone to do our art. but. no. your world is still, and clear. and. mean. there are some. precious things. you will never…
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i will tell you not to listen
i so hear your anger i have my own & i will tell U not 2 listen 2 the dogooders who will tell U they can save you if you just regurgitate all the bloody shit of it on them they R only focusing on you for their own needs/…
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Divergent Outcomes
yielding widely diverging outcomes flapping wings and randomness analytical techniques doubling the forecast time proportional uncertainty so much external noise not unlike the supersymmetry or trajectory of being inside him repeating a history of the intuition of periodic orbits scattered infinite-dimensionally points of large arrays whose resonance in fluid motion…
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After Wandering
after wandering some through America, land of the umbilical alone, you begin to see fungal family graveyards infected in a different light people just staring at the rain in a parking lot cuz they were in it https://timbarrusart.tumblr.com
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What Gets Televised
i work with adolescents who bitch a lot (they would like to burn the planet down) they’re always complaining about how insufferable mainstream media is it’s all about content that sucks cock/ okay/ then, make the kind of content you want to see/ write the kind of books you want…
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Mainly The Lot of Us Are Puppets
pretending no one pulls our fucking strings we cannot be manipulated baby, you are so manipulated your spcks glow
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SomeNightsSlipping
pretending no one and nothingcan pull your puppet stringsyou, stumbling on bridges, you a moving target look at whathappened to us, the skygrew dark the skygrew light, the sky despite our farburning flame of delusionaldream palaces free of strings
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The Outer Banks in Fall
the ponies play this stare you down game you will never ride us you will never ride us i will never ride you i will never ride you even the sun is balls cold ponies storming the golf courses and condominiums tainted, taut, they have stolen february when they will…
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TruckFuck
on our broken aching backs mesmerized and looking up at the whiskey stars in the metal hard bed of your ancient truck the fucktruck drinking jack and smoking a torrent of that white trash weed the stars a hundred feet away/ your ass smells like the feed store/ a sweaty…
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Watch His Eyes At The End
watch his eyes at the end if you are one of my friends and i ask you if i might film you i would advise you to say no it’s easier that way and darkness starts inside of things like will i be good enough and you get it that…
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the lone and narrowing
the lone and narrowing but now your left breast down to fatal wreckage behind the blur of cancer’s tomb you were at risk because the other one hiv has disowned diseased outcomes deep-buried and banished to the marrow’s snow whose frigid hands grab us all seeing as the sun has…
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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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pacemakers and arrhythmia
i will never leave appalachia/ i know that/ it just is/ i do not love appalachia/ i do not know how to love a place/ i hold no romance for it to my naked breast/ the beauty of the blue ridge is more ruthless than you can know/ that soft,…
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in these appalachian hills
in these appalachian hills groaning under not an anchor but a lack of them reading itself is like the scrap dealer bent so close to poverty one can only wonder why it is white people mainly cannot bring themselves to understand that reading is a warship that has kissed the…
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and hovering
i belong in that place with the sacks of seed spilled upon the fallow ground salted with milkweed and armed with cameras and hovering
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dazzled or enough
https://timbarrusart.tumblr.com
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The Nights At Large
where some eternal blue glistens and snarling hauls its streets with the lips of whores hey bigboy gotta cigarette and you woke up there too exhausted to sleep among the stars or slices of the sun the concrete sidewalk had been jabbed into your mouth of boots where no half-broken…
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leaving you
https://timbarrus.tumblr.com
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he’s feeling you up in public and you like it
his hand will be squeezing my ass often on the long road home leaving me silently incredulous because it’s such overt flirtation no one thinks of him as someone who would do this, he is held in such regard i say nothing, pretending not to notice his fingers pushing against…