Open the Blinds

Open the Blinds

We’ve been pushing with the strength
of seventy-two men,
but it seems like the world’s
only moved forward an inch again.

When the bottom fell out
of the invisible piggy bank,
the world landed with a thud
in the neighborhood.

We’re still waiting for someone
to pick up the peace.

It sounded just like it did
when they launched the scuds,
blowing the lids off
all the sleeping giants
of set-in-stone opinion.
Everyone’s got one—
both men and women.

As we watched the direction
this world turned,
when the rhetoric got so hot
that it burned,
singing every fiber
of every single mind,

And after all that the middle
seemed pretty hard to find.

It’s hard to walk between those perfect
white picket fence house party lines,
with ladies named Ethel and Gladys
always listening in, as life is giant spider web,
connecting all the time.

You find most people
standing on the other side,
staring confused, apathetic, angry, or in shock.

But we can’t just watch the tides as they turn.
We must surf and we must learn.

While words and wing nuts
try to bridge and divide,
drawing lines, drawing lines,
until tic tac toe is all we find.

People are dying daily,
executed without a trial,
while the killers take the crown,
a vacation, and shoot another round,
with the blessing of the official
organizations that abound.

The innocent are being tried
in a kangaroo court,
and crazy mad men
are shooting up anyone for sport.

We keep debating ourselves in circles
until we turn blue,
as endless time has drifted by,
taking lives with the things we do not do.

Is it too much to ask that this world just value life?

We keep trying to hashtag our way out of this mess.

Justice is peeking through the blinds.
The look—her face—horrified!

D.L. Lang
D.L. Lang
Diana L. Lang is Poet Laureate of Vallejo, California. She has published nine poetry books under the pen name D.L. Lang, won several awards at area county fairs, and enjoys participating in the spoken word community of Solano County.
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