Mr. Ford

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.