Skip to main content
Read page text


She sat behind the door, squat as a toad in a twinset and tweeds – my oracle. How are the mighty fallen I intoned as light poured in in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan I moaned and through the pane sun shone as though O were a sunburst window flooding rays into my soul, thou wast slain but who Jonathan was I wouldn’t know – I was Jonathan, the light and the sun were Jonathan, my elocution mistress, my first beloved, you were Jonathan and thy love to me was wonderful, yes, it was, it was, passing the love of women, women and men. How are the mighty fallen…


My Bookmarks

    Skip to main content