A biopoem for my (remarkably) older brother

Gregory:
Wry but fastidious, somehow both absurdist and grounded.
Father and uncle to a motley clan of rowdy cousins.
Lover of new recipes and old xylophones,
Who has been to China, France, and Enterprise;
Who needs his ruffles fluffy, his rainbows ripply, and his jasper jovial;
Who fears undercooked chicken, over-handled Tootsie Rolls, and a bad slice (no matter what he's swinging at);
Who has adopted cows, hunted deer, and fed squirrels out of his hand on Angel's Landing;
Who would love to find a bicycle made for four;
Down the street from Wa-Wa;
:Grimshaw.