Young Talleyrand
………………
Now I ask you, who could judge, just looking
At ce gosse of sixteen, what kind of trick- [ce gosse=this kid]
ster he’d become? Front of Jove, no hooking
Nose, a lawn cravat (only its white flick
Of generous knot revealing any style)
Provide slight wispy whisperings about this
Boy. Seemingly he lacks the will to smile
And certainly that sad mouth could not kiss,
Though lower lip is full of promise, or
Foreboding. He doesn’t look like a wimp
(A head and shoulders portrait
Revealing nothing crippling as a limp.)
But still, I just don’t like the haughty space
Between his eyes and brows. It’s a mean face.
This poem is part of a shorter sonnet sequence within this large sonnet sequence called The Encyclopedia Sonnetica. The shorter sonnet sequence is called “Encased in Silk.” I recommend you read this poem where it is set in its sonnet sequence. To do that, search for “Encased in Silk” here in The Encyclopedia Sonnetica.