Flight Risk
He leans close,
Silken fold of opulence
A wink of bold immune impudence
I could be just another small imprudence
He confides.
Wrinkled hands that dole dollars
To cover priceless crimes
And smooth the air to soothe the anxiety
Beneath kindly crinkling eyes.
I could be priced less than his ticket.
This tick, it reminds me
Of my own grandfather’s face
Even for a fate worse than death
Only death can pay.
“She calls me an offender
Say anything and you’ll offend her—
One of those unreasonable types.”
Is reason able to act here?
With princes and presidents and actors?
We want justice
Or just his head on a pike.
Folded arms and tight smiles
Tight airline aisles
And silence that screams no
My sigh lends no hint.
"What do you think, prosecutor?
She’s cute, her
Underage body barely developed
Bare and developed on film."
Fight or flight or freeze, revelation too risqué
For the public
Records sealed and not published
He’s a flight risk; it’s too risky.
He’d flee somewhere with no extradition
(Underage is just an ex tradition
Really not even antiquity.)
So he’ll quit the world no wiser
Unrepentant
Of a penchant
We know was not just his.
We know was not justice.
A solitary death can’t touch this crime.
Wheels kiss the airstrip
It’s his last trip
He smiles at some underage woman
The last time.