He smashed his hand
in opening a door for her,
and less pain than
embarrassment shrieked through him.
Concealing both,
grimacing as if theatrically,
he asked himself
who he thought he was to go
around opening
doors for anyone, much less for her.
More verses by Ben Jonson
- Vi: To The Same
- A Celebration Of Charis: Iv. Her Triumph
- Simplex Munditiis
- The Thames At Mortlake
- To The Reader