I have lived in multiple cities around the world, and visited many more.
One thing I have learned is that the Eagles were correct in their song, The Last Resort,
when they say " ... call some place paradise, kiss it goodbye."

Nowhere is perfect but some places are more "human" than others.
I came to Calgary, Canada, because there are many humans here - and I happen to love humans.
Calgary, and Canada overall, are not perfect but they try to get as close as they can. Do they always succeed? No. Do they always get it right? No. But like a good book they keep you engaged as they work through the process.

I watched Neo-Nazis march in my birth city of Melbourne, Australia early this morning. In typical Aussie fashion a homeless man attacked one of the marchers. Thank you, Melbourne. And screw you, Nazi scum!
Wherever you live, be like that homeless man - fight back against tyranny and fascism, even if it's hard. Then, if you're lucky, you can live in your version of Canada, too.

Leaving Los Angeles

The blackened tin foil square looked up at me
with malice in its metaphoric heart,
as if to prove the depths of misery

that walked the streets of this Los Angeles.
I walk on by - I have to play my part
so blackened tin foil squares can look at me.

I navigate the excrement and need,
avoiding all the squeaky shopping carts
that seek to prove the depths of misery.

I wonder why so many just don't see,
all self-absorbed by what they think is art;
the blackened tin foil squares look up at me

aware that they will soon be memories.
I never cross the street into the park,
which proves the depths of human misery.

I'm leaving so the soulless won't claim me,
aware I'm tainted by the creeping dark;
the blackened tin foil square looks up at me
as if to prove the depths of misery.