Sampler: For My Momma and 'em; Holy Mothers

***So I'm trying to publish a book of poetry about motherhood, this is the first poem I wrote on the subject which made me wanna keep going. Comment please***

Holy Mothers
She wishes you'd
SCREAM...
As loud as the deacon's sunday best.
As long as the sermon.
Sitting under a nonexistent fan
As the preacher preaches about a "Godly man"
To the woman folk and the four old men, who actually attend.
Side eyes to the only female minister who can't become reverend cause she never went to school
She wipes clean her dingy white shirt of baby drool.
This store front church,
"Sittin at God's Feet! Baptist Church of God and the People"
...and my momma and 'em..
The preacher man spit flings as he condemns a haughty woman, who is unclean.
He straightens his gold and platinum wedding ring.
Plays with the knot in his tie.
Wipes sweat from a furrowed brow.
The sisters in the front row
Don't notice these things
All they see is a man of God
Who drives a BMW, got a good job, and power
....and a wife and kids
They admire him among other things.
Ample behinds and lace covered legs shift during sermons.
Moisture in inappropriate places on a sunday morning.
The reasoning behind why his following consist of women. Beautiful women who wanna live right
But can only find corner boys for husbands, if they're that lucky.
Coming to see the pastor is their religion, his sweat, vigor, and rhythm.
Throw a hand in the air, instead of panties.
Holy Ghost orgasms and heels cracked from stomping.
She wish they'd...
SCREAM...
For her when she preaches.
But, she can't get a hand clap
Or respect.
Bastard of a four year old child, and she's only 20.
Look down through your nose at her, it's the only way momma and 'em would ever see her.
They don't scream for her
Momma and 'em only scream for the Pastor or Jesus.
But nobody can see just how much Minister son look like Pastor, except for me.