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Bonobocare
or
The Children's Crusade

Dreamed 2015/8/8 by Chris Wayan

I'm downtown seeking a purple bike--public and free--
ubiquitous these days. Run into Mom. She waves
alleyward, vaguely--"I saw a bike in there." But the way
leads me to a plaza with a rainbow of bikes--unclear
which are free. It's the PEOPLE gone purple here--
violent violet tees on half the youth or more.
Meaning they're like bikes. Public, free to be
Ridden, guiltfree.

Bonobocare's arrived at last! A federal plan, to calm
Raspy public with free love. Well, subsidized. Because
easy poon doth soothe the militant breast, doth make
Estrangéd voters swoon. Chimp rage? Bonobo calm!
Now my mom

drives a convertible with fifties fins, pointing out free
purple bikes for me to ride--and purple girls. To ride.
Some are hot, but letting my mom pick lovers feels
as bad as parental clothes & wheels.

A purpleshirt current sweeps me round a hill. We
slosh into Skateboard Park. No mere
halfpipes here; a chain of sculpted hollows, each
with a stone outcrop in the center you
can zoom up to hang spin drop. Nervously I
skate up a shin to concrete knee--dare not the thigh--
half an eye out for my mom.

A ranger safety-lectures. Not on skating, but on
What most of us streetkids have chosen for career:
We're the newly-legal whores for Bonobocare.
Not federal workers yet, just contractors, mer-
iting no vacation, sickleave, care: just momentar-
y friends with(out) benefits.

Surprisingly our ranger shrugs
at booze, bareback sex & drugs.
No, she decries the fat bonuses offered for
camp-followers in the latest war! Mere
sex-risk is zip beside the Hazard Champ:
War. And two ugly conflicts flare beyond the hill;
temptation's real. Same sex for double pay?
We're young. Discount the risk.

With all the new free bikes, it's easy to reach the wars.
Oopsy consequence. On the children's crusade pours!
Curious I join thong-throng, though I don't aspire to be
One more war whore.

Child prostitute parade! Wave banners, decorated in
body paint, ribbons, still-innocent(ish) skin.
Some dance, some purplebike, a few astraddle on
sleek unicorns, calm miniphants. All fey, all gone
gold-rushing off to war. But not to kill, at least.
Off to fuck. For bonuses. And peace.


Dream sketch by Wayan. Click to enlarge.
NOTES IN THE MORNING
Dream sketch by Wayan. Click to enlarge.


LISTS AND LINKS: bikes - moms and parenting (helicopter or not) - sports - guardians - sexploitation & prostitution - child sex - street kids - outsiders and cast-outs - parades, fairs, circuses - nudity & exhibitionism - elephants - unicorns - Only in San Francisco - war - politics (sorry, no list for 'healthcare policy dreams' yet) - Obama, Barack - dream poetry - dream humor - pencil dream art

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