Come now, gather 'round as we count the
ways: homeless, drug-addicted and now
vulnerable to the dread coronavirus. Your
luck in life appears to have run fairly thin.
On the good news side there are many fine
people dedicated to seeing that you get on
with life. Not life as most know it of course
but your life, the life you have somehow or
other managed to choose out of a vast
multitude of directions of which you chose
this one. Not that it has been satisfying for
you to daily face the elements that housing
would solve, nor that the occasional high
might compensate for the drearily miserable
lows nor the opportunity never directly
sought to overdose. Much less that the frail
state of your health identifies you to the virus
as a credible destination. And then of course
there's the boredom factor. Look, I'm not sitting
comfortably here in judgement of you and
the misery life has handed you. Was it a bad
crowd you enjoyed that your mother warned
you against? That enemy of youth, peer pressure?
Disappointment with the trajectory of your
life when you expected much, much more?
Well, here you are, there are few crossroads
you might choose from since you've already
completed all the choices that have led to this.
Truly, honestly with feeling, I wish you well.
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