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…

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

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

the bullies who live in toilets

we speak to bullying and abuse on playgrounds, on sidewalks, on the bus, but we do not speak to bullying and abuse that occurs in toilets because we are ashamed/ teachers are afraid and bullying is rampant even if the media has refocused on different parts of the news cycle,…

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…

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…

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

dazzled or enough

https://timbarrusart.tumblr.com

Tim Barrus in the New York Times

AT NIGHT, THEY PACE you were sleeping and I would sculpt your naked body with the contours of my tongue/ you were that flawless carnal bleeding from your hole/ the inside of my mouth was eros drowned in blood/ in the cold hours of the night, you were awake and…

Tim Barrus in the New York Times

We begin this video in a graveyard. We end the writing part of this in the same graveyard. You will not get it. But then, we don’t make jack shit for you. So what IS mainstream art. The video (above) has no name. It has no stars. It has no…

1933

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

2 Straight Boys Hungry As a Straining Rope

the camera speaks because that is what it is designed to do/ digging down past the edges deep/ turf or the boundary lines kinda fade away/ they are almost scared/ the disingenuous would call it new horizons/ actually, what straight males fear the most is shit/ the land of the…

le crib

from above we see…

Tim Barrus: New York Times: Get Real

Michelle Goldberg at the New York Times tells us to hit the streets. Nine million Americans live in the streets. Exactly how is it that they’re supposed to hit them. The New York Times people are smart and they have good intentions. But they live in a well-funded bubble, and…

New York Times: On Queer Childhood

I mentor boys at-risk for HIV. Many of them do sex work. They don’t carry the baggage of typical adolescents. Their baggage is a lot more breath-taking. People see delinquency, the juvenile justice system, and detention. None of which work. That people do not understand homelessness, hunger, and hate, is…

you split

the proper perspective through silence and then to be pulled away naked by the guards in fields you split into the wet wounds a death of fences https://timbarrus.tumblr.com/

THE CAMERA SEES THROUGH YOU

the camera sees through you because the camera does not take photographs by itself it needs you it sees through you it uses you it needs you to pick it up it is only through you that the camera has any meaning or relevance at all it is through your…

writ large

writ large scorched the you at every level your fingers on my tit tracing my hardly private sorrows i make a mockery of the habits of the sun lean and watch i am taking photographic evidence and writing poetry that takes sides that takes sides https://medium.com/@timotheebarrus

All The People You Are Bowing To

this tongue in blue scraped along the landscape of the rougher moons/ memories of the wolves who have fed from here/ sleeping naked in the autumn leaves, you always did scare the fuck out of them/ https://timbarrus.tumblr.com

When They Realize

when they realize that life is a fight for it/ all of life is a fight for all of it/ or whatever rush of it they can get a hold of and grab/ all you need are fists/ when they realize that i have survived most of what they continue…

Having Lived With You

having lived with you/ for so many years, i kinda knew what it was you wanted/ what it was you liked/ in that orchestration of a silent language and other things tongues are for/ the darker planets of your delicious bed/ how sharply in it, your cistern just beyond those…

Because It Has Drawn Blood

because it has drawn blood i let you play because it has drawn blood you pushed the catheter in because it has drawn blood for a moment that core because it has drawn blood fed on rockweed seas because it has drawn blood and silences all memories of the dead…

Someplace Else

all as frantic tongues by night less the depth of grief devours us like the past is just another dragon’s wrath and the parchment to write it on https://timbarrus.tumblr.com