HOME | DD

Prosaic-Scriptor — money man
Published: 2009-07-29 22:10:21 +0000 UTC; Views: 177; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 2
Redirect to original
Description dog-eared fingers crumple up,
their thick, fleshy throats swelling like
bulbous worms;
they undulate with
that green sickness -
flailing with the pervasive
odor of a need for greed.

white hands match a
starched shirt,
so pale next to the bloody
purple of his suit,
shot through with the deep
bruises of red and burgundy.

his tie does not match -

yellow as the jaundiced world he lives in,
it hungrily laps up the color from his face;
sucking life as he inhales amenities.

flakes of a check waft past his blank face,
blown by the wind he no longer feels,
touched by green eyes he cannot comprehend -
the only color he knows
is the virulent
chartreuse of his clients' bills;
the oily myrtle of his dreams.
Related content
Comments: 4

gliitchlord [2009-08-04 23:05:41 +0000 UTC]

Nice system.

Wonderfully written.

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

chief-spazz [2009-07-30 06:41:10 +0000 UTC]

The imagery is really something, but I can't make head nor tail of the last stanza. Vice is a terrible thing.

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

sibilantesses [2009-07-30 01:57:33 +0000 UTC]

This is disgusting.

I love it.

👍: 0 ⏩: 0

pardonM3 [2009-07-30 01:00:39 +0000 UTC]

Whoa, now that's quite an accompaniment.
I was particularly caught by the description of his fingers (wow, I've never seen fingers described that way) and tie ('lapping the color from his face' - that's just cool).

👍: 0 ⏩: 0