from Green: first fit, second part

On the green heels of last month’s Green, first fit, first part, Open Letters is proud to present the second installment of Adam Golaski’s Green. —The Editors

{ Grene, Grene, Grene: Green Arrives th’Knight }

A noise’nd another fell fresh upon th’first,
a noise th’lords there could not easily’v’eard——

Noise b’neath noise is not a while sensed,
while course upon course th’court was kindly served.

                When sensed——

There hailed at th’hall door a fearsome master,
on th’most on th’mold on measure high;
from neck t’middle so square’nd so thick,
+’is loins’nd’is limbs so long’nd so great——

Only half’v earth, twice + more a man’s height

yet man more than monster,
right upon his ride.

        Of back + of breast his body was stern,
while his waist was worthily small——

All his features followed fully in form but

                Wonder at his hue men had,
                set in his assembled scene;
                His features as freakish as his fashion
                as over all, he was achingly green.

This gomen, man’v games, green’nd garbed in green,
a coat, green, which constricted his middle,
a merry mantel, green, graciously w/in
w/ a trim’v valuable green, a garment pure’nd clean
w/ a bright, bright, brightly black’nd white hood
drawn down from his locks’nd laid about his shoulders;
him’n well-heeled hose of that same green,
cut close to th’calf. He wore spurs’v pure’nd bright,
bright gold, + rich silk borders braided full;
+ at the length’v’is legs, w/out shoe th’man rode;
All, all his vesture truly
                        green 

       all

                                green’nd the essence’v

                                        green

both th’bar’v’is belt’nd th’bright stones
rich’nd arranged in’n array’v
                                green
n

        array

about’imself, upon’is saddle, ‘nd over silk
                                        works,
                        Over silk

works were
too many trifles t’track th’half, too much t’tell
all what was embroidered about, birds in flight
+ gay green baubles, gaudy gold lines like hay thru their middle.

+ th’pendants of his horse’s breast plate, + th’proud upon his crupper, +
th’ornaments about his bit, all, all enameled metal, all, all green,
+ the stirrups that th’ knight strained, all, all stained th’same——green,
+ th’pommel’v’is saddle, + beneath th’saddle th’skirts,
ever gleamed’nd glinted all, all w/ green stones;

His horse could hunt hidden among grasses,

                certainly

                for this man’s powerful horse was green,
                a steed fully fixed + firm,
                bridle embroidered’a vivid sheen,
                all perfect for th’gomen.

Most gaily was this gomen garbed in green
+ the hair of his head as green as the hair of his horse,
fine hair that fanned about his shoulders, +
a beard, as great as a bush, grown to his breast,
that w/ th’splendid hair’v’is head was
clipped round, just above’is elbows,
so that half his arms were covered.
Th’mane’v th’knight’s great horse was
well curled’nd combed w/’a great many knots,
wrapped w/ gold thread among th’green,
for ev’ry twist’v hair, another strand’v gold;
th’horse’s tail’nd his forelock matched his mane,
bound both w/ bands bright’nd green,
adorned w/ many dear stones from end t’end.
Bound up w/’a thong’nd a complicated knot
there were many bright bells’v burnished gold

                                        ringing.

Such a steed upon earth, th’ride’ve that freak knight,
had never until that day been seen in that hall

                by men’s eyes. The

                knight looked lik’a lightening strike
                so said all those that saw him,
                He was as no man is like;
                beneath his blows no man could win.

Adam Golaski edits New Genre, a journal of science and horror fiction, and edits at Flim Forum, a press for experimental contemporary poetry. His fiction, poetry, and essays have appeared in numerous journals, including Sleepingfish, LVNG, Essays & Fictions, Spinning Jenny, and Absent. He teaches writing at the University of Connecticut and literature at The New England Institute of Art.

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