Male. 25+. 227 words. Cutter: “Peter Pan." From: When the Levee Breaks.
By Paul Pasulka
You are a fucking idiot. Peter Pan was not about infant mortality. It was about Barrie’s brother, David. He died when he was fourteen. Barrie made up the stories ‘cause his mother’s heart was broke. “All children, except one, grow up. Wendy knew this. One day when she was two years old she plucked a flower and ran with it to her mother. She was so beautiful that Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, ‘Oh, why can't you remain like this forever!’ At that moment Wendy knew that she must grow up. Two is the beginning of the end.” No. No! Just shut the fuck up and listen. You don’t know shit and you need to be fuckin’ educated. Now where was I? Oh, yeah: “Her mother’s romantic mind was like those Oriental boxes, one within the other. And her sweet mouth had one kiss that Wendy could see, but no matter how she tried, she could never reach it. Mr. Darling saw it too, but soon gave up trying for it. Wendy thought Napoleon could have got it, but I can picture him frustrated and going off in a passion, slamming the door.” And you sure as shit ain’t no Napoleon. You knew Kate like two days and you gave up. You let her hitchhike alone. In the desert. Maybe even with your baby in her belly.