BLADWELL JAMES GARAMOND IV
Globetrotter, gambler, connoisseur, collector,
paramour, dabbler, duelist, bibliophile,
king of the Windsor knot, the Oxford comma,
the impromptu cocktail and the opportune remark
made simultaneously. Esteemed director
of amateur theatricals in Garamond Park,
which showcase the American flair for drama
that has sustained him through his long exile.
Thirty-nine-year-old bachelor. Believes
pipe smoking is a virtue, not a vice,
and finds that ladies find its halo nice.
Blends in a pinch of opium when he grieves.
Equestrian, cosmologist, cinephile, spy.
Black velvet. Garnet bracelet. Gimlet eye.
Commands the tongues of nearly all the nations.
Slender but strong, reserved but not aloof.
Dark hair, deft fingers. Smile a shorthand proof
of all you’ve left out of your calculations.
Speaks fluent mot juste, phrases blazing but
clipped, silver lighter flipped
Said to be handsome. Skilled, one must admit,
at swordplay. Part-time lawyer. Full-time shit.