Robin Bennett Poems
How I remember the waiting room,
at my Daddy's oncologist's office-
If being eaten alive by cancer isn't enough-
The waiting room is full of old boring, dated
magazines in stages of disarray.
It smells like chemicals and fear,
and it looks deadly real.
Ugly pictures of a fisherman caught
in a raging nor' easter. Truly not a
well thought out metaphor, if I do
say so myself. The anti-cancer drugs
make the pale and weak thirsty,
not a water cooler in sight.
Daddy, how can you trust this
man with your life?
He's a supreme failure in ...
The Skeleton Coast
Lost wandering without a guiding hand
stumbling in sand and bones, along the
skeleton coast; hundreds perished
trapped in cutting sands, or shards of glass.
I was sliced apart either way...
When the heat grilled my body,
my defeated spirit shook in loneliness
white hot rays confused my thoughts