“His worthy steed he then bestrode
And forth upon his way he glode
Like sparkles from a flame.
And his crest he bore a tower
And stuck thereon a lily-flower,
God guard him from all shame!”
“She sits on the bed to put them on. It is like a knight shoving his hands into a pair of steel gauntlets. As she wiggles the toe for fit, she lets her eyes stray across the slag heap of old LPs.”