Dynasty Poem by robert dickerson

You are like Napolean's taller, better-looking brother
who'd take the world himself, if not so thrilled
by Bourbon hubris, Sforza regalia,
traceries, rookeries, aureoles, the Sphinx's nose.
Tungsten-waisted, finished, richly-grained,
immune to dancers; for these three years
I've seen you here and there on certain terraces
perfectly amused, else icy cold and alone:
My ears have taken pictures of your words
in which your great teeth plainly show;
While outside the wind wrangles the walls
on your head I would place the whole crown of France
should our paths cross, but you
would lift it off, toss it back and stroll off