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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required There was a time years ago when the City showed its best. With majestic hills and flowered streets, the Paris of the West. Where business types and techno geeks discuss their politics. While artsy fartsy folks and Hipsters search out their coffee fix. A City in crisis where long lines form at shelters for the night. Are overcrowded and noisy and all must leave before the light. Where tents grow like dandelions to heighten a City's flaws. While Officials, Tech Tycoons and Do gooders debate the primal cause. There are addicts, alcoholics and thieves, all there to ply their trade. While those whose minds are not quite right add to the decay. They shoot up heroin in the streets unconcerned for any Law. But no matter how stoned you get, do not use a plastic straw. They flock to the Tenderloin when nowhere else to go. And human misery is on display as if in a cattle show. Where things of value have no value because before the night is sown. Someone will decide they want the thing and take it for their own. People of means display a compassion that is really quite compelling. But draw the line, when told the homeless, might live near their dwelling. There are disease filled needles and garbage piles not found on local maps. But rest assured, in the City's wisdom, they have a poop detector app. A City racing to the bottom where even families live in tents. Displaced by a growing techno boom and short on monthly rent. They suffer more in a City where the rule of Law has disappeared. And their children see the rats and filth causing constant fear. This happens when rules are banned and the Law has lost its heart. Don't take me wrong, I see the want but you need a place to start. So if I may suggest a few hundred porta potties to fight the summer heat. And tell those tortured souls their time is up, no pooping in the street. *For those who might be interested, I will be posting a new cartoon called 'Bob's Your Uncle' on my homepage every second day.
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