Tim Clark

Tim Clark

Tim Clark is a writer, blogger, novice political activist, husband and father, from Columbus, Ohio. He has proudly written for The Ugly Writers, Street Speech, a local homeless advocacy newspaper and Lefty Pop

Shadows and Light

the ugly writers
Light comes in layers. Bright, revealing, glare that cast shadows. Shadows that seem even darker because of the light.

Dream Job

the ugly writers
All day at work I had that feeling, that something was wrong, creeping up behind me. I caught shadows moving in dark places. Sounds just below hearing, lights flashed in my periphery, small signal fires, warnings.

Driving Through Time

the ugly writers
In our haste to get to our location we routinely rocket past charming, delightful places. Sometimes we don’t even see them thanks to all the planning and work put into our highway system.

A Place in Time

the ugly writers
I thought about lying. Nobody knew anything about me. I could have told them anything I wanted, and they would have never known better, this was before the internet, and I was a long way from Nebraska.

Welcome to the Show: 2023 Edition

the ugly writers
One nuisance about signing up for new sites is entering my age. I have to scroll back through so many years to find the correct year, it begins to resemble a gas pump in reverse. I watch the numbers as I press on the little arrow and remember.

The Dead and the Living

the ugly writers
I was always a fan, one of the first albums I owned was Skulls and Roses. The Dead’s second studio album. To this day Grateful Dead Europe 72 is still one of my favorite live discs. I’ve been a fan for a long time, as long as I’ve been a fan of any band.

Coffee, Life and Humanity

the ugly writers
It was a dark night, and the dawn came wet and cold, it was miserable. In a way the drizzle was worse than real rain, leaving spots on eyeglasses and windshields.

Art and Generosity. Oddly Enough

the ugly writers
They were immigrants, and dressed neatly, but the man’s right shoe had tape wrapped around the toe. And the little girl’s dress was spotless and neat but worn at the elbows.

The Basements I’ve Haunted

the ugly writers
There is a mannequin in the basement at work. It moves around, it used to startle me. Now I pretend I don’t notice. And it pretends it doesn’t see me. There are ghosts there, and we both pretend not to notice each other. We have reached an uncomfortable impasse.

Hope Springs Eternal

the ugly writers
He looked a sad, stooped over, carrying a small, compact parcel of disappointment. Gravity was a little more efficient where his feet fell. He seemed to get shorter with each step.

An Empire in Decline

the ugly writers
It probably seemed like a good idea at the time. Even today, when most of our history as a nation was much closer to oppressor than downtrodden, it makes us blush with unvarnished pride.

Loving the Lawn

It was a little more work. Actually, it was a lot more work. Really, I had to do all the work. Since I haven’t gone to the gym since the coronavirus started maybe a little more work is a good idea. I have a doctor’s appointment on Monday morning, and this will give me a little ammunition.