My P***s Story
So I was reading a very serious poem from Skye Jackson’s amazing book of poetry Libre, and I was the facilitator for the morning so it was serious business, but I came across a reference in the poem that is part of my life because I live off of Magazine Street and, most days, I pass by Peniston Street, and every time I pass—every time—I say to myself, thank God when we were looking to move to Uptown New Orleans I didn’t fall in love with a house on Peniston Street.
The group took a moment, and we debated how the street was probably supposed to be pronounced—”Pu-NIS-ton” was the consensus—and the group gently chastised me for being juvenile and then the poetry reading continued.
Later, I was relaying this moment to my husband when we were, again, walking the sidewalk on Magazine Street, and when I got to the point where I explained about my thanksgiving prayer for not falling in love with a house on what you’d have to be constantly explaining, “Actually, it’s pronounced Pu-NIS-ton Street,” a woman entering her shop stopped and called out, “Me too! Me, too! I mean, you’d be living on the penis street. “
Vindicated and validated, all at once.
That’s my p***s story for today.
Carl Black
I’m not sure I’ve ever heard it pronounced by a native, but it’s always sounded like Peniss (rhymes with Stennis) in my head. Amazed I never thought of more amusing options.
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Ah, that makes sense too. Just goes to show you are more mature than I. 🙂
Pearl Shaw
This is the best! And what excellent long sentences. Quite an art form. Glad you’re on magazine
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Thank you! I do love a long sentence. 🙂
Joe Hawes
You ate having way too much fun cruising around the.Big Easy. But then it goes with the territory
Ellen Morris Prewitt
No doubt about it!!!