POEM: Impossible

Impossible?

Let me explain impossible to you –
Me the bastard child of “Never In A Million Years” and
“When Hell Freezes Over” –

I am a child of the ’69 New York Mets.

I am an accidental cancer survivor.

I have impossible programmed into the speed dial of my cell phone.

I have touched its coasts, shore to shore
Planted a flag and put all ten toes into its vast Pacific Ocean.
And still, I count the white capped waves as among my most ardent admirers.

It is the astronaut bouncing on the pockmarked face of the moon
Swinging a golf club, reading from Genesis.

It is a July 4th firecracker that goes off in my hand
The sense of phantom fingers followed by the tingling and the shock.
Like the morning after my father’s death
When that, too, was impossible.