When We Gave Up the Ghost

This poem was written in response to the Rattle® Poetry Ekphrastic Challenge for December 2023 and was ultimately not selected. You can find more information here.

https://www.rattle.com/ekphrastic/

The image that this poem was specifically written about can be found here. (December 2023 – Jeanne Wilkinson's “Cold Sun”)

https://i0.wp.com/www.rattle.com/ekphrasis/EC23Dec.jpg?ssl=1

When We Gave Up the Ghost

Hey kid, come over here and sit down and let me tell you ‘bout the way things used to be, ah hell

You’ll never understand, but back then things were different, we walked to school everyday and

Fresh air did us good, so did playin’ in the yard, now your generation wastes time sittin’ on the

Electronic devices, that’s why y’all are fat, and after school, we’d go down to a Mom-‘n-Pop

Store and get a nickel soda, speakin’ of them, they’re gone, Wal-Mart came, put ‘em all out

Of business, that’s where the school building used to be, tore it down, that’s what they did

To all the old homes, the ones with character, bulldozed them for big bulky things, oh but

That was the style of our cars, bold with tailfins, and built to last, you could work on ‘em

Yourself, now you need a God-damn computer degree just to change the oil, bunch of

Bullshit, back then you only needed a high school education and a strong work ethic

You kids don’t know what hard work is, don’t seem to want to get your hands dirty

Now it’s all “give me” or “I want more,” entitled brats, and you treat no one with

Respect, used to be “No Sir” or “Yes Ma’am,” everyone deserved some decency

Even the ones changin’ oil or sweepin’ floors, and their color or creed didn’t

Matter, basic civility, now it’s all slurs, and you don’t like them only ‘cause

They don’t speak your language, or come from the same country, vote the

Same as you, you just God-damn fuckin’ hate ‘em, it’s almost as if you

Got no heart, got no manners either, when I was young we used to say

“Please” and “Thank you,” seems like those words have disappeared

From your vocabulary, like the word “dignity,” it means you didn’t

Go out with your pants down ‘round your ankles, your underwear

On display, or in a shirt so tight your titties show, used to dress

In Sunday best, acted with integrity, had morals, didn’t glorify

Cheatin’ on your girl, no, you treated her right, you took her

On dates and you asked her father’s permission before

You got married, stayed so, no divorce ‘cause things

Got tough, you worked your problems out, and you

Loved and forgave, communicated, you didn’t

Text on a phone, no, you spoke to people

Face-to-face, wrote letters, said “Hello”

Ah hell, kid, I don’t know anymore

Nothing is the same, everything

Has gone down hill and down

The drain, it’s worse than

What it was, don’t seem

To be gettin’ any better

Seems somewhere

Between there

And here, I

Guess we

Gave

, …

Up

.

Submitted under MRB

When I saw the image for December, I was struck by the feeling of loss - not death, but loss of value, like something left to decay. It got me thinking about how the older people tell the younger ones "back in my day" and how that world is being lost right before their eyes. I not only wanted to write a poem that captured that feeling but also displayed it structurally. I wrote this poem so that the lines keep getting shorter as you go down the poem. Essentially, the poem itself decays - down to a single period. This is what the poem is supposed to look like.