THE LOWEST CUT

by Darcy Grabenstein

Most folks mispronounce Wilkes-Barre, PA.
While the town is actually pronounced like “berry”
it now is living up to its butchered version: “bar” 
(the Diamond City ain’t shining so bright right now…)

That’s because Luzerne County has barred
Low Cut Connie from performing at the town’s 
Rockin’ the River event for “political” reasons (wink, wink)

Methinks it’s due to his song, “Livin in the USA.”
It’s about deportations, making people disappear
and now Luzerne County has made him disappear (their loss)

The irony is that the band was banned, replaced
by Halfway to Hell, whose leader was convicted
of raping a teenager (sound familiar?)

The irony continues.
At Low Cut Connie concerts, frontman Adam Weiner
waxes poetic about love and diversity (oops, strike that word)

I’ll admit that cutting Low Cut Connie can’t be equated
with cutting Medicaid, free school lunches, and other “woke” programs
Yet it still cuts me to the core. (I am gutted)

We certainly are halfway to hell.

A marketing writer by profession, Darcy Grabenstein turns to poetry as a creative and cathartic outlet. The theme of social (in)justice runs through many of her poems, and she longs for the day where her page will finally be blank.

TREE HUGGERS

by Darcy Grabenstein

In days gone by, “tree hugger”
was used as a slur by some
to describe those granola-crunching types
who wrapped themselves around tree trunks
to prevent loggers and the like
from committing acts of deforestation
To others, “tree hugger” 
comes as a compliment,
describing devoted environmentalists
who care about the earth
about sustainability
about what will be left for the next generation
And now, “tree hugger” describes
those holding on for dear life
as bone-crunching ICE goons
commit acts of deportation
tearing innocents from their roots,
from their loved ones
Have you ever hugged a tree?
In Japan it’s called shinrin-yoku,
forest bathing, transferring
of life force from tree to human.
Native Americans hugged trees
to heal both body and soul.
Here, masked marauders
surrounded a woman seeking haven
using brute force 
to break her embrace
break her spirit
break all moral codes
I wish I could envelop this woman
in a big bear hug
tell her she is welcome here
she is safe here
tell her
she is home
 

A marketing writer by profession, Darcy Grabenstein turns to poetry as a creative and cathartic outlet. The theme of social (in)justice runs through many of her poems, and she longs for the day where her page will finally be blank.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE...

by Darcy Grabenstein

 

They plastered their hate-filled propaganda
on walls, on posts, anywhere, everywhere
They started with boycotts of businesses
They isolated us, segregated in ghettos
They labeled us with yellow patches
They pilfered property, possessions
They ruthlessly humiliated us
They herded us like cattle
to concentration camps
Working us mercilessly
through illness, hunger
The cruelly conducted
medical experiments
They implemented
the ”Final Solution”
Until we could not
gasp for breath.
They attempt coups at the Capitol
and across the pond in Germany
 
They slaughter innocents
in nightclubs
synagogues
mosques
churches
 
They ban books
they ban choices
they ban love
 
They’re just warming up.
 
And that chills me to my bones.

Always a lover of words, Darcy Grabenstein started her career in journalism. Now a marketing writer by profession, she turns to poetry as a creative outlet. Darcy is a contributing writer for the thINKingDANCE. She has had works published on RitualWell.org and in the Chicken Soup for the Soul series.