This pillow I need to punch!
It’s puffed itself up in a bunch.
It’s no longer a rectangle
and I feel I could strangle
this pillow that’s gone out of shape.
A cushion that needs adhesive tape,
isn’t something your head upon can rest
with one side being far too compressed.
So I shake it and prod it, mold it and beg it,
please conform to my head and befit it!
But a lump now has appeared in the middle
and I fear I can no longer fiddle
with this pillow that’s become so un-fine,
and refuses to support my recline.
So in my angry reproach, my temper now reaches a boil,
I drop-kick it down the hall, screaming “You’re no longer my foil!”
And the cat thinking that it’s some prey,
pounces quickly and bats it away.
But I remove the dead thing,
and with a great swing
I toss it out with the trash,
and my calm I regain in a flash.
Victoria invites us to try our hand at humor (oh my goodness!) over at dVerse Poets pub at 3PM EST: http://dversepoets.com/