The Book of Lancelot
Spicer on Lancelot
He has all the sense of fun of an orange, Gawain once
explained to a trusted friend.
His sense of honor is too much barely to carry his body
The horse he rides on (Dada) will never go anywhere. Sharp,
in the palace, he wanders alone among intellectual servants
He sings a song to himself as he goes out to look for the thing.
The Grail will not be his
Book of Gwenivere