The Ugly Little Man

The Ugly Little Man The ugly little man, whose name is hard to say, pushes styro-cartons and discarded cigarette butts with his useless broom into the mindless gutter where they disappear like light sucked into a black hole. The ugly little man has not bathed nor shaved for three Prime Ministers and does not know their names but knows the names of all the shopkeepers on this half-naked street as he dances his morning song. I am ashamed to say I cannot look at the ugly little man and casually pass him, giving wide berth, clutching my change so as not to pocket_jingle the merry soul and greet my lover at the relieved corner.