Impossible
Oscar d'Artois
impossible is surfing
impossible is golfing (if differently so)
impossible is figuring out wtf ‘rolfing’ is
impossible is crushing
impossible is US ever winning the world cup
impossible is the abs on that one english soccer player with the stupid headband
impossible is how fast group sports can go from being tedious to kinda fun?
impossible is donning sportswear in a way that isn’t pervy
impossible is men not talking constantly about their dicks to socialize
impossible is using the nesquik for anything other than cooking black beans
impossible is finding canned black beans in southern spain
impossible is planning a meal far enough in advance that you have time to soak dried beans
& so impossible is not leaving all kinds of shit u bought & didn’t use behind
impossible is the sexistential angst that leads boys to become men who bang about in kitchens
& impossible is the dichotomy between all these old spaniards in woolly scarves & me with my tiny tits out on the beach
impossible is the love of andalusians for vowels at the expense of consonants
& impossible is going to bed before midnight
impossible is how crabby i get if i have to leave the house for the day before noon
impossible is knowing where the rest of the candle goes when it burns out
impossible is not adding a touch of business casual to ur beach goth, at my age
impossible is not replying ‘so true’ to almost any observation ppl make once u start doing it. just try
impossible is this naked platinum blond baby at the beach that looks like an advertisement for babies
impossible is imagining describing a baby’s squeals as ‘delightful’
impossible is maintaining adult friendships from afar
impossible is getting enough alone & enough with other people
impossible is being both selfless & into self care
impossible is posting to social media – not because i lack the vanity but because it requires every day reconstructing a self from of this vast desert of ugh
& impossible is the notion of an immutable ineffable ‘you’ that is anything other than this skin, this shit, this blood, these whacky thoughts
impossible is the ceasing of the fluctuations of the mind
impossible is not getting bored with the endlessly re-unfolding dress rehearsal of myself
impossible is me being back on my dark night of the soul bullshit
& impossible is to say what is really ‘on’ one’s mind
impossible is speaking from the point of view of objective reality tho I seem to be addicted to trying whereas you don’t seem too fussed a feature I can’t tell whether I am frustrated by or admire & which I suspect has either to do with being an atheist or maybe more to do with my own fantasy that there is a possibility of objectivity at all a fantasy perhaps enabled by my seeing things from the POV of the imaginary blank neutral awareness radiating out from the center of white cis male blahhhhhhhhhhhhhh
but I mean still impossible is the messianic bullshit of ppl who fail to see that their desire to impose objective reality is a function of their being able to envision one at all
impossible is calling a dumb thing ‘gay,’ these days
impossible is waking up drenched in dread about the passing of time, the relentless aging of your body when this light this warmth await you tho of course I do still manage to do so
impossible is how good the murder of crows is at eerily circling the old abandoned watchtower … killing it
impossible is knowing whether the stray dog barking at the waves at twilight is just excited to be at the beach or if it has lost its friend at sea
impossible is a ‘your life in review’ feature on phone photo apps for when you are on the brink of death – ‘just some stuff we’d thought you might want to look back on!’
impossible at least for now
impossible is keeping a poem the conceit of which is to start every line with the line impossible is chill & unmelodramatic
impossible is that mess of unborn writhing shitblood cthonic being way back in the corner of my eye
impossible is us drunk arguing over whether the life we’ve built here & our presence is ultimately harmful to others or not
impossible is not planting the seeds of ur own chaos wherever u go
impossible is making something that falls apart & then remaking it & then not falling apart ourselves
impossible is not being at least a bit like ‘o damn’ when u can see both europe & africa out the bus window
& impossible is not also thinking sure ok but why
impossible is having just one montadito
impossible is our mutual love of the tapas lifestyle
impossible is biking to a remote beach in the winter when it’s raining… just kidding we can do it anyway & of course we will swim!
impossible is your joy at spotting pink flamingos flamingoing around in the wild salt marshes for the first time
impossible is finding the perfect seashell but we are getting so so close
impossible is our spanish surfing instructor’s vast protolinguistic understanding of the ways of the waves
impossible is the way that spanish surfing instructor when no one is paddling to him & he is waiting to give us a little push shouts ‘come onnn! I am so BOOringgg!!!’
impossible is hosting friends in remote locations for the weekend & not making it a physically exhausting bootcamp interspersed with vigorous drinking & snacks
impossible is biking back in the rainy dark with a flat tire for 30 miles up a huge hill & just chasing your own wavering light for what seems like 5ever & wondering if this is what dying is like
impossible is this sliding scale of being so dead inside & then so happy in these waves at dusk just catching sweet swells or at least sweet white foam just like a dumb lil happy sea dog
impossible is a triple rainbow but we do get a double one & who can say no to twins
impossible is this sunset & this one & that one of course & the sunrise… oh my!
impossible is not being so tired all the time
but impossible is not being at least a bit ok with that
& impossible is remembering until u do that feel of o that’s right i am
Oscar d'Artois wrote Teen Surf Goth (Metatron Press, 2015