Family Poet
By Rolli
2 June 2008
There was a poet in the family
oh yes, a century back, black-
haired, green-eyed, lean
combo of charm and arrogance
At parties
he superimposed himself on guests
sucked the purple from wine
to dye his breath—so charming, though
we hardly minded
One night, he vanished
We found him, yes, years after
flat on sand
preserved by sun
posing, it seemed
like bones of a bird
in a glass case
on his thinned lips
a look of serene achievement
We covered him in sand, and
walked home
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