If you told them to go to AA they would laugh at you
Desperate alcoholics gather, near a street corner,
waiting, with their hands out; they've found
a sympathetic store owner, and they gather
like trout do at that place in the river where
you can buy food to throw to the fish.
Leerily, the unshaven men look at you,
as you pass them by, sizing you up.
What can they take you for?
What is your obligation, if any, to these men
who would rather drink mouth wash in the park
than seek assistance for their addiction?
At night, they break into cars; they hold people up,
anything to feed their need. Should you make
their lifestyle easier on them? Are you helping
them out by handing them a dollar, or are you
hooking them up to fall further into the abyss that
they have created for themselves?
Sure, heredity is a factor in their affliction;
they have a disease, but when you cut your hand
wide open with a knife, don't you seek out
someone who can seal the wound?
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