︎︎︎︎︎ Conor Truax
︎ Sept 20, 2023

Seconds stare at us in threes: Two for you
and one for me. The crackhead is
sitting by the water. He is smoking.
Now, of course he is smoking crack.

He steals a smile like a limo;
a cop here swallows a donut
like the business end of a sleeping pill.
Addictions, convictions, conflictions of the

Times, sliced into threes. Spring now,
Things changing the way they do
Every season, seconds sweeping from black to white
And Stitching the streets together, into a sheet

That covers everything. This is a real
issue for us stains. Worse than seeing you
happy is seeing you sad. So I'm sorry,
lol. There is wine all over your chemise.

Eventually: please give up on
Language, its arrogance, its fictions,
There is no money in it anyway! Plus the
Summer is replete with possibility:

its saturation. We need a gaffer, this shot
is dark as fuck, a real problem in
streaming TV. Somehow porn is doing
OK? Their cinematographers? Just wow!

First AD, "Ass Munch of the Year":
My old friend from NYU. His fave first director:
Michael Cimino. His fave 1D: Zain, obviously.
He was also a virgin that couldn't

Read, which, sort of explains it,
The fact that he went from doing Sprite commercials
to Bukake Blowouts and then lost his mind.
Not in that order. Crack, heroin, you name it.

All in his ass. That said, super body. Somehow
has more hair than me? People pity him,
For what; being more honest Than all of us,
water travelling down a truss, under a greyhound

Bus going cross-country. An abortion in a blue state where
Mommy will reverse time, avoid a fine, technically a sign
Guilty of fiery hell! Which, no offense, I equate to New York
in August when it’s so damn white

Out that you can hardly breathe. Those days I go have a nice
Bite of ice and smoke a pipe with my friend. By water life
becomes One long movie with great lighting, and for a while,
all the uneven beats start to make perfect sense.

Conor Truax is a writer in New York.

Also by Conor: Working on my body