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.