Futile...?

I wonder how many beds stand empty every night 
while people sleep in discomfort on the street. 
Sometimes I think, well, some people are just nomads.
                there are nomadic people all over the place,
                    there have always been nomadic people…
But a group which travels together 
is different from an individual who has perhaps lost his way, 
who travels alone
who sits in grime…


Does he sit and wonder, how do I get out of this situation? 
Or does he hunch and limp across the road while thinking, 
yes, this is what I wanted. No responsibility, nothing to answer to, it’s just easier this way…?


We just can’t know what he is thinking, 
what brought him to his position, 
what led him to choose this corner, this wall, this fetid alley. We don’t know. And we don’t want to. 
We write him off and turn our head. Our own lives are enough to work on. 


But back to those empty beds… 
I watched some men constructing a new hotel the other day -
(in fact, there is constant construction all over the city)
but it is all meant for people who have money -
perhaps rightfully so - for why should the sweat and 
labor of the builders provide for anyone undeserving? 


I just wonder what it means
to deserve
a bed to rest on. Some privacy, some water
with which to wash, some light to read by, or even 
a device with which to listen to some music or watch a film…
such luxuries… simple yet so unattainable for so many. 


If I say, let’s allow people to sleep in empty hotel rooms without having to pay, 
like, there could be a website or an app which would link up location with availability 
(and if you think homeless people can’t get online, please visit the Hollywood libraries and take note)
and an individual 
who has 
nothing
can check in.
Clean up. 
Rest. 
Be brought a meal. 


I know I know I know! 
You can’t! 
This reason and that reason and this and that and you just can’t give people stuff for free, and it’s just enabling them, and who exactly is paying for this? and how are the maids going to get out the smell, and what about their carts full of crap, and aren’t they’re going to do drugs! and it’s not a real solution for anything just a temporary pleasure and this and that and this and that, I know! I know I can’t write up this idea without it failing before it reaches even just the end of the thought thinking it. I know. It’s self-defeating. 


It only exists in my imaginary, poverty-less world -
where transient living
is still a reality, 
(for it is a lifestyle which many souls perhaps require in the process of searching for themselves and seeing the world in a  particular way)
but it in this imagined world, 
the lifestyle
is actually supported, 
and not so sunken in mire as it is here now…