The Ballad of Peggy (a draft)

“Danged hippies
and their green grocery sacks.
Why can’t they just use plastic bags like the rest of us.
Who do they think they are?
I’m getting too old for all this.”

But she walks out across the parking lot
from the store to her car
regardless of the truck not two car lengths away
coming straight for her

I’ll bet if it hit her
the truck would be more damaged than
would she.
I can just see it kind of bouncing off of her
like in a cartoon.

“Danged foreigners
 and all their kids.
Why can’t they just go back to where they came from?
Who do they think they are?
I wish things were like they used to be.”

She’s got her five year-old grandson at her side.
She’s going to teach him what he needs to know about
making things right in the world.
Heaven knows his parents never will.

They arrive at her red Taurus.
As she opens the trunk, she touches the fish magnet on her bumper.
If only Jesus would come back and wipe clean this world
and make it right, like it used to be.
When men were men and women didn’t ask questions.
When we could use things without being made to feel guilty about the planet.
When she could rest at night without having to worry about her grandchildren,
and the military, and preserving the English language.

“But in the meantime, things sure are bad. I just don’t see how it can
get any worse.”


~ by hannahcsykes on August 4, 2008.

2 Responses to “The Ballad of Peggy (a draft)”

  1. i love the contrasts in this poem! it’s great to hear Peggy and see her move across the parking lot. i would love to see one more clue about the “hippie” that seems to irritate her so – i mean the recycled bags is one clue, i’d love to see some other little hint, not sure what, maybe the “hippie” has a big ole grin on her face hehe.

  2. Ah, Peggy. She’s been around awhile. Fearful Peggy, wishing that Jesus would come and make things right like they used to be. She doesn’t see that things have never been, “right,” not since that ancient forbidden-fruit incident. Its the changing that scares her, and the different strokes for different folks, and all that, “green” business…just like those shopping bags. Wonder what she’s going to teach her grandson? Fearful Peggy. Its a shame, really. Sure hope she can shake free, break through to, “the innocent blue.”

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