A Brief Madness

A hobo his head in the trash
looking for tidbits
snuffling down discards
from a nearby cafe

looking up and smiling toothlessly
Yellowish eyes crusted
smelling like a dumpster
shivering like a wet cat

For a brief moment
I saw a machete through his head
smashing the ugliness
in bits of bones and brain

A club smashing his twisted body
beating his gangrenous flesh
into the dirt where it belonged
stamping on it with glee

I stared at him and flinched
as he spoke in a gravelly whisper
not all you see are what they are
beauteous countenance can hide most evil

The hobo walked away
holding a half eaten burger
a tinkling bell sounded
briefly, and I knew he knew

my brief madness
visiting angels
often do.