Big Pussy

Because we’re not all a size 6.
–maxi pad commercial advertising larger pads for plus-sized women
That Haagen Daas went straight to my labia;
I’ve superceded “slit” for “fertile crescent.”
Little children clutch my nether lips, shake them out
like a parachute, air whumpfing around them,
tucking themselves under, into the silent red chamber.
My vulva knocks around like a cow bell
and makes me bull-legged. I haven’t performed
my kegels with high seriousness, so I wear the big pussy pad,
the one with wings that may well fly—spongy,
dedicated, aerodynamic — with a pterodactylian wing span,
soaring on gusts of accommodating wind.
Such pads are too profound to slide down the length
of the tent-like trousers of the greater-than woman,
she of operatic carriage, but we have our little secret,
covered from tiny women everywhere — skin tight,
its cleavage impressive, our pink skirt always fits.

Camille-Yvette Welsch
Big Pussy first appeared in Mid-American Review v. XXVI, no. 1, Fall 2005.
Poem, copyright © 2005 by Camille-Yvette Welsch
Appearing on From the Fishouse with permission
Audio file, copyright © 2006, From the Fishouse