I write messages on money.
It’s my own form of social protest.
A letter printed on paper that no one will destroy,
passed indiscriminately across race, class and gender lines,
and written in the blood that keeps the beast alive.
A quiet little hijacking,
on the way to the check-out counter.
And a federal crime.
I hope that someone will find my message one day when they really need it.
Like I do.