Conversation With My Pillow Poem by Sonny Rainshine

I resent my pillow.

How you lie there
fluffed (or waiting for a fluff from me) ,
smug, full of yourself, puffed up.

You little shape-shifter, dream weaver,
soul-devouring lozenge,
sharing my bed
as though we’re wed.

Full of air
and synthetic feathers
from synthetic birds of prey:
Release my troubled thoughts,
my tormented dreams,
and yes, my hopes for better days
and lovely things
from your repository
of soporific curios.

Oh, that’s right,
you profess to be
deaf and dumb, inanimate.
How convenient.

Oh, well, tonight
I’ll have more fodder
for your insatiable absorbancy.
Safeguard them well, my dreams.
You know me better
than anyone else
in the world.