After a lavender scented bath
I pick up a new purple colored panty
Read that it is 93% cotton
7% spandex from Sri Lanka.
Who knew “drawers” could make me
International?
Eating a midnight piece of out-of-season
Watermelon in February in Wisconsin
I question why this cotton was grown overseas
Cause I am from the South.
Ever since slavery ended in the USA
With our free labor and their massive profits
Cotton feels better to capitalist bottoms
Spun from cheap labor outside the country.
Reminded me of a bumper sticker I read
“If I had known what would happen
I’d pick my own damn cotton.”
Well poor White man you did pick
Your own cotton. Poor folks couldn’t afford slaves.
When I raced my car and strained my eyes
To see who owned that bumper sticker, I saw
Familiar baseball cap over brown hair
White skinned man driving a beat-up truck.
I can’t tell if I’m from down South
Up North or right smack in the middle
Of the cold Midwest, he looks the same
As all his scattered cousins.
This is my cotton pickin story
From a global thinking woman
Brought chained to this country
To pick another man’s cotton to make him rich
Who is free to tell what really happened.

Fabu Phillis Carter is a poet, literary artist, monthly columnist, and culture consultant. She performed at the Mary Lou Williams Festival, May 2025, Kennedy Center, created and exhibited poetry as part of Threading Through Us: An Exhibition at the Overture Center August 2025. Poet Fabu is the author of eight books.