his identity

his identity
was all about money.
cars, a home,
property
and clothes.
women were mere
objects, bought
and sold.
the more, the merrier
and secure he
was about his status
in the world.
cracking his cane
against the underlings
that served him.
so when the market
crashed and he
banged his
hands and head
against the wall,
being greedy
by putting all of
it on the table,
he shrunk into
the mean and poor
soul that he was
before it, not
unsavable, but as
close to richard
corey as one gets
without the gun.