On Any Given Day

[Mostly written on the #10 bus today]. To a loud bang...not out of place in shoot out territory...the #10 Hastings comes to
a violent halt. It's not the other...it's only its double prongs connected to the power above that have slipped off their feed
suppliers. We are at a stand still opposite the Balmoral Hotel...don't think that queen stays in this one...something tells me...
in the toughest block in Vancouver....or for that matter...anywhere else. Looks like the bus is needing a fix too...in the drug
dealing and receiving hub of the city. The driver gets out and does his thing...and soon we resume our voyage through the
under belly of Vancouver. The prisoners of these side walks...however...remain behind. A woman in a long light purple dress
and a tattered white wedding veil...hand out stetched for offerings that never seem to arrive. Women and men doing that
strange spastic dance in these parts they call "the Tijuana Two Step". I'm still not sure whether the cause is needing a fix
badly or just having had one...men sleeping in nooks along the sidewalks...seemingly oblivious to those stepping over and around them...pan handlers reaching out for a piece of silver mercy...solitary figures stumbling through alleyways from hell
...grizzled men with hawk eyes and snakes in their smiles...hovering in doorways. It is like that in this place on any given day
...with the lost losing a little more each day. What and who have failed here?. What is the cause beyond all the posturing
politicking and excuses? Are these the inevitable casualties in an every man and woman for him or her self society? Are these bad personal choices looking for company where it will be found?. Is it the natural outcome for those who were born into
bleakness?. Is it the result of the "haves" not caring what happens to the "have nots"....the list of reasons given by those with
different axes to grind goes on...but they say a new mayor for this place and rest of this city is coming soon................Quester.