Riding Sixties Shotgun

I was in the shotgun seat in 1960 Lansing Michigan headed straight as a harddrive through ghettoizing "Negra Section" hunting down our commercial whitebread heavenly ThriftyAcres Wanna be a WalMart ImPlantation but not Southern enough, somehow, to withstand straight-male competition in fluent White Privileged culture favoring evangelical flavoring monotheistic monoculturing AnthroSupremacists fueling Future Farmers Kinda like patriarchal-capitalist ****-retentive pathological trauma homophobic nature v pantheistic erotic spirit unenlightened Left unhealthy and disempowered Right unsafe colonizing wealth win/lose hoarding apartheid community dissociative trauma chronic supremacist anxiety disorders degenerating unhealthy inside whites only classrooms contrasting all black and brown summer outside classrooms feeling shared yet severed healthier and safer together red-and-blue blooded bipartisan hearts. School would soon reopen. We were on our way to buy back to school shirts and cool jeans, and whitey tighties and Elvis Presley-worthy 3rd grade new classmate Arturo Hernandez disturbing white-pecked T-shirts. A warm mid-western August urban day for us white family farmers traveling East when a dark-skinned handsome boy my same eight years of age riding his bike right out proud along a cracked and broken tree-lined sidewalk with other kids around playing hot hopscotch abandoned and abound near a sun-baked naked curb. He looked over. With my window down I felt and smelled his shared fragrance for a moment brown eye to blue so improbably in love with you are who I was made for highest deepest widest narrow pleasing best. Maybe we could become boyfriends and then old-school married naked together, sometime someday somewhere a time for lust By carnal discared yet caring accident discovering we both explore scary pleasure favored with him brown-eyed beautiful above and me under blue-eyed wide ginger passionate red-curly-headed MeWe luscious wrapped around his waist, both wanting to give to conceive to reconceive what could be possible laudable nutritional As I can mostly missionary dimly remember mystery sounds, dim sight, and fertile smell when EarthMother's egg was open-whole system fertilized by spraying Yangstrong sperm informing incoming integral potentiating seed and feed and breed and bleed and need and divine peaking deed He drove racing athletically just to tie our metallic bronze-skinned Ford sedate, seats six, sedan on his battered red bicycle 3-speed bad as glad His only helmet a handsome head glistening in noon-day summer's seismic sun, crow-black tight-curled gracious gotta-touch it play with feel him His warm wet scalp massaged, his salty lips tasted, his breath and nether sacred dualdark parts breathed in absorbed until my breath nearly stopped Then he fell behind, and was gone until I met you And there he was again remembered this eight year old glamorous brown-skinned boy now grown into this handful thirties Wanting me to love him, and only him, to worship if I want, as will he in sacred 1/0 double-Taurus 1960's HolySpirit co-passion for playing only win/win peak hotness co-governing robustly resonant co-relations Reparations if you will then so will I GoldenRule give with you what all StraightWhiteMale patriarchal monotheists would most fear slatternly given away in lust for men of color in that unimageable thighs spread needy open way LeftBrain dominantly win/lose either/or zero-sum competitors Left v Right polynomials reweaving Left-with-Right bicamerals polyculturing communion, not monoculturing competition, creolizing, not colonizing, cooperating, not hunting down for a profitable military-industrial LeftBrain dominant ecopolitical kill Not yet nightmarish anxiously imagined when I was eight years old in our Ford's shotgun seat back in 1960 Lansing Michigan headed unstraight white male as a harddrive through ghettoizing "Negra Section" distracted by our up and outing ThriftyAcres shifty cold cash unsettling sacred brown-bred manna.