Two Poems / by Oscar d'Artois


teach me how to love what doesn't look the
other way

to be honest i find anonymous sex
as depressing as anybody

so let's take a moment to contemplate w/o flinching
the vast indigo of my heartbreak

near the end of college i remember us being higher than the
moon & dancing in half-forgotten drag costumes in a circle in
the grass like clones just glimpsing the fact that they'd spent the
whole of their lives being harvested & that they’d probably
never know to what end &

i have never felt so fucked

years later
in the south of france
i’d remember that in some places
people have names for things like the wind

well, fuck that thing where u thought u were praying
but it turns all u were doing was complaining

yes & hello good morning stranger
i'm in love w/ the way that u've rolled up yr jeans





roll up to the club like whaddup my life is
vapid & i have crippling social anxiety


growing up abroad kids gave me a lotta flack for
the peanut butter & jelly sandwiches
i would bring in my lunchbox to school

later i picked up smoking

today i am drinking yesterday’s coffee
i was microwaving it before but now i have stopped bothering

it is midwinter & i am staring out the window
because of course i am

i will probably continue to experience occasional
spasms of unrequited emotion yr way
for a while

no matter how many invitations
to play candy crush
yr mom sends



Editor's Note: These poems are taken from Oscar d'Artois's Teen Surf Goth, forthcoming from Metatron, which you can purchase here. There will be a book launch for Teen Surf Goth this Saturday in Brooklyn, NY.


Oscar d'Artois was born in 1989 in Paris, France. He currently lives in Berlin, Germany. You can find him online at