Bible Belt

Miss Scarlett braces herself against
the bed post as Mammie tugs
the strings of the corset;
Scarlett inhales, holds, inhales,
holds her lifted ribcage in place
while the strings tighten,
inch—
Mammie pulls-
at—
“Woo, Miss Sca’lett!”
a—
“Won’ go no fu’tha!”
time.

Scarlett scoffs in frustration,
“18?! Mammie, I used to be 16, now fix it!”
“Won’ go no fu’tha, chile—yous done has
A baby, miss, you won’ see no 16 inches!”

Southern belles must’ve been disappointed
After their second, third, fourth child;
Another inch,
another hole in the belt
to loosen the strain,
to allow a little room for the belly,
to relax the ribs for deeper breaths;

and when little Georgia peaches emerged,
plump from the harvest,
Scarletts everywhere would scoff in disgrace,
Strap on the corsets,
Grab a Mammie
And demonstrate to their little peaches
The figure of a lady;
the corset seam stretches,
a thread—
“Won’ go no fu’tha, chile”
pops—
“You’s done has a baby”
loose
as Bonnie Blue runs to her pony,
straddling,
with one chubby leg on each side.