by Martin Anton Smith

I was on a one week break in Dunedin New Zealand.

But it could have been any city anywhere –

For at base a city, is a city, is a city – is it not?

the only difference is by degree.

I was sitting like a lonely writer at a table,

One of ten in the outside area of a quasi-dive bar.

With Beer in hand.

There were 7 empty tables & me –

But I stopped worrying about being alone decades prior.

I like my own company & my thoughts.

My thoughts rarely attack me other than to say –

“Why are you being so lazy”.

I can live with that ok.

A homeless young woman came up to me.

She was of course dishevelled,

Beaten down,

But I could see the beautiful young woman,

That lay hidden beneath the outer skin of deep misfortune,

Waiting to be rediscovered, unearthed, returned.

”Do you have any weed” she says.

”No sorry I don’t smoke weed” I say matter if factly.

”Do you have any other drugs”

”No I don’t sorry”.

Later on I realised that was a technically a lie –

I was Drinking one of the worst drugs known to man.

She leaves crosses the road to the convenience store across the road.

I think to myself –

”I should buy her some healthy food” –

But I don’t get up from my beer seat.

That thought felt like it didn’t have enough weight.

If I was truly decent,

wouldn’t I have jumped up quickly & bought her a pie?

I guess this is how she & people like her remain invisible.

We see these human beings as ‘theoretical things’ instead as someone to help.

I think how terrible it is that people exist in this hopeless state.

We help stray cats & dogs with glee, but stray people make us recoil like a coward.

Part of us fears being attacked or dragged down with them.

So mostly we don’t help them.

And the councils & politicians hate them.

For when the city has an event,

Cities bulldoze away their shanties & mattresses & meagre belongings,

For fear of being embarrassed by out-of-town spenders.

They become like a forgotten species of human being.

We let them die off.

If in the moment when we ignore them, –

Instead we felt their pain as if it were ours,

We’d help them.

For we’d see them as real human beings.

I am mostly a selfish coward like everyone else –

For I only help those that are only perhaps 1/3rd way down in the hole.

I am ashamed of my weakness –

I too often help others only if is comfortable.

I hope one day courage will find me more.

I can’t help but keep thinking of that young woman.

what will happen to her?

Tonight?

Tomorrow?

Next month?

A year?

in 5 years?

Ten years?

I think somehow we more fortunate will pay for our “comfortable cowardice”.

Are we scared if we help, we will become like them?

I think deep down – this is true.

And tomorrow we will scroll down upon that which is unreal.

And then give asshole celebrities our hard earnt cash by the Billions.

As if all the homeless destitute & downtrodden have totaly disappeared.

Oh lordy lordy – why are we so weak?

Why am I so weak?

Help her.

For she is still there when I close my eyes.

They all are.

The first step is to admit we aren’t doing sh*t to help.

Yet those ghosts could be any one of us –

Just like the last “Great Depression”.

Well, I guess it’s been a while.