A Sudden Crawl

He shuffles his feet like the money he once flaunted Green between his toes, a bar of soap he once afforded Toenails overgrown like spades digging for gold He walks barefoot his state of mankind receded Soiled worst that the shadowy projection of his silhouette The earth sends his hunched over skeleton a R.I.P. invite Down on all fours like a dog begging for a treat, he accepts Pleading to God for forgiveness through the teeth he rots Extravagant choices on the menu at the French restaurant He succeeded in expediting a quick conversion rate Omelette to cheques; chicks to tips; Rands to Euros He sits dreading the wasted indices he reduced to zeros The man who owns the hour commands power The fool who doesn’t cross his 8 Mile grows poorer Funny how money is loyal until the last cent Once spent, it leaves without even a trace of its scent