Cheerleader Pink Poem by Robin Bennett

Sitting in the cafe, becoming fast
friends with a Columbian gentleman
named Juan Valdez, I wait in
a too short midnight blue number.

Relentlessly I check my refection,
in my mother goose compact.
Just one more swish of a
healthy cheerleader pink
on the cheeks.

I've never run a block in
my life. These cheeks
have never seen a
real natural glow. Hell, I don't
even bother running
from the friendly mugger
here in Manhattan. My motto
is ' here it's all yours pal.'

The two thousand dollar shoes
on my feet are hardly meant
for a quick escape. I just figure
the guy mugging me is some
sick cross dressing label snob
in need of a pair of fall Jimmy Choo's.

Sitting here waiting for a blind
date from a friend is sheer hell.
Usually I pass on such insanity.
Just my luck, I owe her a huge
favor. You know what they say
about payback.