Hush Money
- Jan 12
- 1 min read
Updated: Feb 5
Stopped short by an unseen undertaking,
one kilometer from where we were going.
Asked to explain.
Held under a practiced stare.
A belt unclipped.
The thought of a welt.
So we pay the bribe.
We try to turn around—
called out, accused,
caught in a lie we didn’t tell.
Now we pay the bribe.
Nearly on our way
when crookedness swallows the day.
Could we negotiate this raised voice,
this staged outrage?
No.
We pay the bribe.
Maybe we resist.
That would mean punishment.
Maybe we question the terms.
That would change nothing.
So we pay the bribe.
Predators at every corner.
Nothing shifts. Not today.
Time to pay the bribe.
Time to pay the bribe.