Pillowcase Reward

Cross-eyed, dwindling
My lower body in delicate numbness
The campanile fell from euphoria
Crushed my leg in bittersweet

The bleach, drying the calmness in my skin
Half-buried at the pun of the enemy
Maybe I care but you’re the cluster that I hate
Transparent noises, as if we are the tip of a macabre

Recall me, in a dietary process
Of snatching my wooden penis
My hairline stays on the floor
As the angels whisper something about methodical plumbing

Quicksand rehearsal to monetary perfectionism
Feast of peaceful isogram in expired inches
Made of Chinese roadmap
Skyscrapers built on laughing librarians

The racist in me keeps telling me a plot
That the revelation was haunted by television gridlines
Papyrus smells like empty street that denies growth
Dress code questioning the energetic terrain