The Unkempt Man

A Story by Noiz

With a senseless catch for quality events, the unkempt man bustled and stretched down the 45th road. Barely fighting the breeze, he swooned the crying fox that bled upon his ashy top hat. He was once told to breath the gurgled air that choked so many chargers in a war between three gilded guns. On this day of tender retreats, the motion scarring swindler danced and fondled about through crowds of ogled paddles. With the afterthought of betokened constituents, he laid on the mighty, toasted tower that many morsels savor with common, pink gums. Then, the wedged and sunken sun unified a band of fiddled saliva circles to chunk at the unkempt, fox-smothering man. Heckling busily, an elephant dealer offered a fine wooden rose for the man to cheaply gnaw and rummage. A steady dive in inventory had clouded the mind of floral-goers along the pictured marketplace. And elephant tears fell for an apron to drink, but only as the present greed bounded in to linen and iron. Further along, this tragic, textured wanderer, wasted with a tail above his eyes, met a snarling rat with drooling clothes and fierce, simmering peepers. Change he wanted, change he valued; if only quiet specks of glittery, diamond scented silver could crack the skull of an incisor fighter. Tendrils draped from a certain set of sleeves and graced the ruffled pockets of the burning, red rat. The unkempt man, so edited with exuberant means of meaty choices and walks. With shadowed grays and heavy cleavers, the sacrum suckling sky presented its bubbling blues with violence. Just as the neonate diner spoke with red and green night lights, Mr. Unkempt jumped to the shattered force of the godspeed strike rabbit. His cyclist body headed with space sailing intentions as waves of clunky brain laced fluid flooded the meaningless dust of the sidewalk. Oh, how does the man frolic along with visions of gaudy pastries swimming darkly in his tanked belly of atmospheric acid? Never again will the perverted pie elevate his lumps to a graceful status during the world’s most prominent, tuneful, boring day.