the white man

The white man


In Algarve, I met the world's tallest poet
blessedly free of athletic prowess and 
dressed for a warmer clime, perhaps Swiss
or some other country nearby 
Alas, he suffered from high education and
tended to overlook people, which, in his
case was understandable, but he had 
a great sense of irony 
He spoke French to my wife, who came 
into my study to tell me she looked like
Sophia Loren, who am I to disagree with
a woman who speaks seven languages 
The tall poet and I went to the beach 
I noticed he was white as unchurned milk
people looked like he came from Mars 
whitest human they had ever seen.
One day, he disappeared, going back to
Swiss where people tend to wear solid
shoes, but I remember he recited a few
poems, full of wonderous thoughts.