Sometimes it’s a Ziggy Life!
ode to the little guy with the worst of luck
(This cute poem was a prompt-response poem I wrote back in college but recently polished up for this article.)
I love Ziggy.
When I was a little girl visiting my father’s parents, a trip we made bi-annually, I was intrigued by the eclectic collection of life I saw there in their polished and organized home. It smelled different there. A combination of cigarette smoke, soap, and licorice candy.
These are the oddities of visiting family you don’t see often — you remember the strangest things.
Like Ziggy.
He was a stuffed rendition of the cartoon character that I have come to love, sitting there quietly on a bookshelf in the corner of my grandparent’s sitting room. I now have a few Ziggy items around my home and you will catch me saying sometimes: I live a Ziggy life.
He was adorable. Gullible. He had a variety of animals around him. He had the worst of luck — but still kept going!
