The Everyday Under His Collar

I could see exhaustion under his collar,

the wear in the skin of his briefcase,

the trudge of his leather soles,

re-soled,

re-soiled.

I remember the first thing I noticed,

was the weight of his eyelids,

and

the neglectful way he shaved along the folds

in his face,

causing sores and redness to erupt

along

the surface of his skin.

I could hear the dialogues spewing;

the sales calls,

cold calls,

warm calls,

folding over each other in a pit

near his stomach.

The failed,

the miserable,

the promises;

always of tomorrow.

The tomorrows’ building

into becoming nothing,

not-a-thing,

no thing at all.

"The Rain Must Fall"

Copyright © 2010 Nicole Rigets

12 thoughts on “The Everyday Under His Collar

  1. You have nailed it, some history here perhaps? Too long in the pool and your skin puckers up, the young ones don’t know this.

    1. Thanks Mike, for the terrific response. I will quote you on Twitter… “too long in the pool”.
      Back at you with… a quote from the film Glengarry Glen Ross: “A-B-C. A-Always, B-Be, C-Closing. Always be closing, always be closing.”

    1. Thank you Lisa. From door-to-door, to the grand offices of Remax and the upscale showrooms of BMW, salesmen regularly take a whopping abuse. The tough part is: the abuse can become an addiction!

  2. Beautiful weaving of words here, Nicole. Having worked in sales, I’ve been on the receiving end of those “tomorrows that build into nothing (at all). Makes me appreciate my present estate. I’ve discovered that passion is the currency of happiness…Lesson learned. Love your work.
    BE

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