Ponchatoula Tulip
by Michael Tusa
You could call it love.
The swift uptaking of a Ponchatoula tulip
in the hands of a small girl.
Holding it up past the day-old marriage
of pearly makeup
and bourbon cigars.
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Author's Note
Ponchatoula, Louisiana.
Other stories by Michael Tusa
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Nice. I can see it.
by the hands...or in the hands?
In the hands**** thanks!
Nice little moment, Michael.
("up-taking" with hyphen?)
Nice little comment, Matt! Obviously I need to learn to proofread.
(there's a double space after "Ponchatoula.")
;-)
Ever write directly about the scenes/sights/people of New Orleans?
Not too much, maybe in some earlier stuff. I've thought about doing New Orleans stuff. I guess I just don't think the fruits ripe enough to pick yet.
That was basically a stupid question on my part, as wherever you are, that's the world, and you just write about it/you/them in it.
I lived there for ten years, though, and you *do* see/experience things that that for the most part don't occur elsewhere.
Every question is a good one!
I lived there for about twelve years myself. I agree completely. I've had my house robbed. I have been mugged, and chased by dogs. Police chases, gunshots, hookers hollering at you. The whole nine yards. Yet, every time I go back, its with a smile. New Orleans leaves a lasting impression upon your soul. The sight, the sounds, the people are all so unique, its hard not to get caught up in the romanticism of it all!
great. i miss nola something awful. well written piece.