Falstaff and Me
The Unsown Field: Canto 6
October 18, 2019

“Bottle the day in Arden’s amber green,
extract from mundane details, all of those,
and store the altered idyll that I’ve seen

eternally inside my button nose.”
“Not bad, lil’ brother. Still, why not your heart?
How strange to store it where your mucus flows!”

“To keep it lubricated, for a start.”
“Brothers are so disgusting! C’est la vie.
The day, indeed, is pleasant, for my part.

It does distract from thinking ‘bout the tree
spir— Oh, I get it! Clever, I’ll allow:
a nose does best at stoking memory.

…Schlemiel of mine, how fares your stomach now?”
“I feel— no, first, let’s talk about my name.”
“Schlemiel? My dummy bean? Dear scraggly sow?

Don’t worry, precious dolt, they’re all the same.”
Quoth he: “This boat has dynamite! Don’t rock it!”
Quoth she: “A warning? Oh how cute! I’m game.

See, Ghoh? It bites a little, let’s don’t mock it.”
Now Ghoh to Geoffrey had his say with glee:
“Terms of endearment, G! You shouldn’t knock it.

Despite her words, she’s flirting, can’t you see?
Now blush, or sister mine will feel rejected.
Sister don’t blush, or watermelon be!”

“Don’t spoil unspoken things with words dissected.”
“Don’t be ungrateful, sis. He’ll comb each jest
of yours and wonder if they’re heat-infected,

so taunt him all you want. He won’t protest.
A Pyrrhic victory of rhetoric!
To change the subject, why do we go west?”

Quoth fern: “If you ask me, r—” “To get there quick,
to answer why. We took a shortcut, but…”
“…But what?” “I best not say while dolt is sick.

Oh dolt of mine, my darling little nut,
How fares the fight wherein your innards grapple?
My precious dummy bean, how does your gut?”

“I’ll live, mon chou, my key-lime sour apple.“
Quoth Ghoh: “I opened up a can of worms,
big sister. Now he thinks you’ll go to chapel.”

Quoth Geoffrey: “Two can use ‘endearing’ terms.
To change the subject, where is ‘there’?
Are you two doing what distrust confirms?”

“A personality he grows, beware!
Relax my dummy bean, I mean you better
than you deserve. No use, the way you scare!

Forget for now which one’s the other’s debtor.
Be friends with me. The gears between us grind,
but they’ll slip in and interlock if wetter.

So dummy bean, to give you peace of mind,
let’s whet the gears and help them interlock.”
Quoth Ghoh: “Big sister, words are not confined

to one interpretation. Way you talk,
you need a better metaphor for things platonic.
Or else invite that he within you dock.”

Confused though Geoffrey was: “A mouth demonic!
What naughty words you let your brother use!”
“Don’t mind him, dummy bean. Are mine euphonic?

Shall we each other more in-depth peruse?”
Thought he: “She’s baiting me, but with which type?”
His stomach overtaxed, it blew a fuse.

“We have to stop a second,” he did gripe.
Beside the trail he fell and gagged and heaved.
“He can’t digest you, sister, you’re too ripe.

Now from his other greens he is bereaved.”
Quoth Burve: “He’s right, Gogh, don’t be dirty.
Too lenient have I been, but now I’m peeved.”

“At least, big sis, I’m not in bad faith flirty.
I’m with your dunce-boy there, just look at him!
You contradict this morning’s being shirty

with overtures that, well, are less than prim.
Is this your get-back? Make us two be three
to needle him each time you get the whim?”

“Four!” quoth the fern, “But else I do agree.“
“Bros first, I see! If plants be boys.”
Her color now as red as green could be:

“Well fine! No more I’ll treat schlemiels like toys.
Now let’s get moving, please, we shouldn’t tarry.
Not here, at least, nor make a ton of noise.”

Quoth Geoffrey: “Why? These woods are far from scary.
At any rate I can’t go on like so.
My stomach’s tied in knots, my head is airy.

I need to rest a while, before I go.
What would I give for chicken soup and bed…
At least it’s pretty here… weirdly uncanny, though…”

“Come on, get up. There’s soup and bed ahead.
Let’s go, already, dolt, let’s please make haste.”
“Dolt?” “Geoffrey then, I’ll call you that instead.”

Quoth Ghoh: “Big sister’s taunts have gone to waste,
She disappoints by being chaste. Unsown
she is, though not for long. She’s soon to taste

her boyfriend’s—” “Ghoh, shut up!” snapped Burve. “Intone
another stupid song, I dare you to!”
“May I butt in?” quoth Stahp. “We’re not alone.”

What power in an instant Stahp’s words drew!
They made Burve freeze in place; the others, same.
If only by what I describe for you,

then, hearing not a thing but trees most tame,
with budding leaves amidst the gentle breeze,
the cause of their disquiet you’d disclaim.

But unidentifiable unease
is caused by unseen details. Like the rest,
our hero froze, while still on hands and knees.

All up and down their spines The What impressed.
“Big sister, what’s the matter?” whispered Ghoh.
“Nothing,” she said. “But let’s continue west.”

Quoth Geoffrey: “No. I’ll catch up later, though.”
“What! Are you kidding? On your feet!”
“Carry me then, or still the answer’s no.”

“Oh please, let’s go! Get up!” Burve did entreat.
“The more you wait, the harder it will take,
since nourishment by then you’ll more deplete.”

Still “No.” She shrugged. “I must for now forsake
you then. Here, have my faba beans.
When ready, head our way till past the lake.

A league or two past that is Lurrel Greens.
That’s where we’ll go. If you can’t make it there…
we’ll try get help. (Just know we lack the means.)

I cannot stay, while Ghoh is in my care.
I hoped that you’d advance from dolt to schmuck…
Adieu, and cotton candy do forswear.”

She took her basket, wished our hero luck,
then, taking Stahp and Ghoh, continued on.
Quoth he: “I feel, now, like a sitting duck.

They left me! They’re the brains and I’m the brawn,
I guess… They left me! Why? Oh tell me, why?
What hand from life’s unfair stacked deck I’ve drawn!”

An hour passed by and, though a cloudless sky,
his whereabouts seemed oddly overcast.
And all this time he felt a presence nigh.

Deciding it was time to leave at last,
he got up; then upon first step: a call
from just behind, with sweetness unsurpassed:

“We lost our way. Can you please help at all?”
The voice was sweetly nasal, oboe-like,
tender enough to pierce a castle wall.

He turned around, and how his nerves did spike!
“We think we know the way, but we’re afraid.
Please come and lend protection on our hike.”

Two boys of twelve they were, so cool and staid
in disposition, yet what awe they stir!
“Please come with us, we’re scared,” again they bade.

The pupils, irises, and whites did blur
unearthly black across the children’s eyes.
Again they bade, “We will reward you, sir.”

I’m sure you’ve guessed our hero’s not too wise.
Quoth he: “Reward? I sure could use some bread.
That’s great! F’ra second I misjudged you guys.”

Each took a hand and he away was led.