Fair skinned blue-haired ladies did genealogy
Hoping to find
Greatness, virtue, refinement
In their linage.
To go along with their daughters of the revolution status.

Thought they had.
Ancestor had founded a fine old city.
His ancestors, scholars at Cambridge
Six hundred years ago

Except they got the linage wrong.
I showed up for a DNA test
That showed we were no kin
To any of those esteemed folk .

We descend from scandal.
Patriarch came out of nowhere
With a name that did not match his DNA.

Adopted?
Illegimate?
Hiding from his past?
And where did he get all of that money?

Founded a southern town
And gave it his own name
(Apparently not his name)

Nor did the next generation bring pride to the blue-haired genealogists.
One of the sons married his 14-year-old niece,
For whom he was guardian.
Changed both of their names and fled the state.

Another son fell in love with a slave girl,
But, unlike Jefferson,
Embraced their love without shame,
Married her,
Had a bunch of kids.  

Now when the blue-haired ladies gather for an ancestral reunion,
Half of the crowd is white
(Some descended from the inbred)
And the other half black.  

Snobs need not apply.