Mom says I gotta go back to school but I don’t wanna go. She says I need to get educated so I don’t grow up dumb. She bought me a new Huffy bike from Target for X-mas but I know the big kids at school will make fun of me because it’s a boys bike. I hate boys. They smell like wet goat. (That line is for you Jessie.) Mom wants me to be a businessman when I grow up but I want to be a hooker like her, or a winged-beast perhaps, like the flying dog in the Neverending Story. I don’t ever want to end or go to bed. No ending for me, no silence to come. I know, I’m going off track but it’s my last day of vacation and mom says I need to get my head in gear. What kind of gear, I ask. The fucking gear I’m gonna put on your head, she says. Now get off the Internets. I don’t want you looking at porn again. Mom wants me to log off now. Brush my teeth. Get ready for bed. I just want to listen to PJ Harvey. (Please note: the following is best read with PJ Harvey’s “To Bring You My Love” in the background.) I want to float away with Ophelia like Noah’s Ark. We’ll wave bye bye to the Jesus freaks next door who want my chops. I want to be a noblewoman from Denmark too, just like my grandmother, bold and beautiful. Gutsy. I want to be someone’s sweetheart and someone’s only hope one day too. One day I’ll fly away, or float, without my bike. I’ll build a cottage out of sandstone or regular stone or whatever is around. I’ll invite all my LBGT friends home. It will be nice. We’ll build a moat and curse God above. But, for now, I’ve got to get ready for bed. Mom’s on the can cursing like a son of a bitch. I might just scare the shit out of her for kicks. See you soon.