A greying man sits at his flimsy table
Counting his grimy coins.
His beard emits a rancid odor
The result of many weeks of takeout pizza.
A stained cigarette hangs out of his mouth,
The air smells of smoke and sweat.

His obese wife stands in the kitchen,
Cooking up an oily mess.
The pot throws up a cloud of steam
Every time she pokes her ladle.
Her chestnut hair is louse-ridden
And falls around her shoulder
In a curled, knotted braid.

A fly alights on her spatula
Courting death, waiting to be crushed
Between the cooking instrument and the wall.
The wife irritably grabs a swatter,
Chases after the offender,
And guides it to an open window.

A stray cat wanders into the house
And scampers over to the man’s foot.
The man hauls the cat up with his leg
While his hands grab
The scraps of noodles on his table.
And the cat purrs happily
As it nibbles away on his chest.

These two creatures are
Such a sharp juxtaposition
Of filth and purity
Of revulsion and grace.
What the world sees it deems ugly,
But ask the fly and the cat:
All they see is pure beauty.