OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS

 

 

O pity poor Peggy Noonan,

Hitched her wagon to a star

And found Disneyland.

 

Crossed by the gift of speech, she joined a band

of youth in public life, the herald star

and nascent flower of liberal power.  Their van

of privileged fellows traveled from here to far,

attractive, able, rich, exclusive, tanned.

A sense of separation spread to mar

ambition like a stain.  She left them soon, and

feeling put-upon, she changed her tune.

 

O pity poor Peggy Noonan,

Hitched her wagon to a star

And found Disneyland.

 

Changed her tune from classical to canned

because she saw they knew each other.  Far

in past of lucky caste, they had a hand

in freedom’s cause, or at least were par

with Kennedys.  Their bays and ivy fanned

the smudge of disapproval.  See you tar

your betters to look brighter; pray for ruin, and

blame your darkness on an Other’s noon.

 

O pity poor Peggy Noonan,

Hitched her wagon to a star

And found Disneyland.

 

Taking a turn, she blamed Them for the land

within they showed her, quite by chance, where bar

the shuddering, gulping swamps of alien sand.

Yet change of party still has left her far

from pleased: success, belonging to the clan.

She said things she didn’t mean; they started to jar.

A slave does not believe what its his doom and

fate to utter. One were the words and the tune.

 

O pity poor Peggy Noonan,

Hitched her wagon to a star

And found Disneyland.