All the men
looked up to Mr. Ford. Children watched
him drive up in the ghettos with money, women and a sense of power over their
destiny. He wore shiny shoes and always had a fast woman on his arm. He oozed
money out of his pores and all the poor children ran around him when he arrived
in an effort to catch a glimpse of the money he showered on everyone but his
whores. His harem at home paid the bills and his fancy limousine on Saturday
nights when he went collecting their rent for breathing in his shrine. Young
men now sixty still remember Mr. Ford with a sensation in their groins just as
when they were boys. Mr. Ford equaled a pussy power that they learned to adore
because no other power would ever be available to poor brown and black boys
from the ghettos. They learned to love
the whores the way they loved their mamas.
They learned to beat them the way Mr. Ford beat his women. Most of all
they learned that women did not equal real humans and thus they were
dispensable in their eyes.
