My Family Was Mostly Farmers

My family was mostly farmers.
I was told this by my mother, when I asked her if we had any famous people in our family tree. Our arbol genealogico,
as my sister would put on the top of her Spanish project.
Except that I did not even write it right.
There are accents I have forgotten.

Farmers. That was boring, especially in a class where my best friend was related
to Buffalo Bill, William Cody.
And someone's photographer father had shot Agness Deyn -
Wait no. That was someone's friend, and that was this year.

We did have a poet, maybe. He worked in the palace of the emperor,
Maybe. It was rumored. We cannot name even one of his poems, all us branches of the family tree together. Not even a fragment, not even a title, not even his name,
not even his pen name, not even his surname - his nom de famille (As I learned in French).
His name of the family.

There is no shame in being a farmer, said my mother.
Farmers are honest; they work with the ground.
So in a family of mostly farmers-
Honest farmers, to boot-
He wrote what must have seemed to be beautiful lies, fantastic lies
Left the honest ground to go into a deceitful palace.

He must have traveled far, to get away from the honest ground.
And he wound his way around mountains that I have never seen
-not even in photographs-
So I cannot hope to describe them accurately,
Geographically,
Detailing every nook, every fissure, like the surface of a worn and stained tooth
Possibly holding some cavities.

I cannot describe them as they were, or as they are now.
Others can do it better than me
Historians. Travelers. National Geographic.
I can only describe them as I thought they might have been,
Which is, in a way, a beautiful lie of my own.