Self Portrait — Zinaida Serebryakova

Peculiar that paintings of women au toilette
are endearing and omnipresent,
while paintings of men shaving or showering
are nonexistent, with the possible exception
of Japanese wood block prints
depicting naked ugly men fighting 
in a bathhouse. 
                        

My parents had almost nothing in common.
True both personally, and in their bloods.
The recipe to make me included ingredients
foreign to each other and repudiating family lore.

My mother’s half was said to be evenly split
between English and Swedish forbearers.
But there was apparent hanky-panky.
In the distant past a German and a Scot
tossed 3% and 1% respectively into my bowl.
England and Sweden added only 10% and 20%
and a cross-border Norwegian or two
provided 16% of my ingredients.

My father was vowed to be completely Irish.
And that seems closer to being true.
except for my long forgotten traces
of a probably marauding Scottish 8%
and a faint but defined Welsh 1%,
which is why I’m writing this poem.