The Very Bad Horse

                                The very bad horse doesn't budge until the pain
                                 penetrates to the marrow of its bones.
                                                                                     -- The Buddha

My first own home
my big green "bed-sit"
in London, in 1956
double bed         green spread
sixpence coin-fed gas fire
London fog        huge little footsteps
TOK TOK TOK

I knew three people
and three more at work
I knew you

I felt around in the dark for Life
and you         I picked myself up by the hair
four stories up and dropped me

--Still I wouldn’t budge

-- Jean Valentine
Door in the Mountain: New & Collected Poems