Clothes Monster

The clothes pile at the foot of my bed
Is getting bigger by the day
And seems to be forming a head

Nothing distinct, mind you
But a definite protuberance on one side
With just the hint of a face

I say to myself
"I'll do some laundry later"
Sitting down heavily to watch me some TV

Hoarders is on and it's my favorite show
Going on those virtual expeditions deep into old ladies houses
Finding dead cats and bags of feces
Along with seventy pairs of half finished wool knitted mittens

About halfway through
Right when I like to get up and pee
Something nagged at my subconscious
Poking at my peripheral until I finally looked its way

The clothes pile had definitely moved
And that sort of head-like sticky-outy part
Was starting to look just like Richard Nixon
A President and thief with just a hint of flobbering jowls

Now on high alert
I looked around for a broom
I know I have one somewhere
And it is just like new too
Lord knows it had never been used in this room

I only turned away from that pile for a second
But a noise hove me to
Looking back again just in time to be attacked
By sweat pants appendages soaked with BO through and through

I coughed and I hacked
I spat and I barfed
There was no escape from the monstrous clothes mass
Which tripped up my feet making my submission complete
With the beast wrapping me up in a horrifying dirty clothes hug

Now I'm stuck as stuck can be
With a toothless clothes monster fabricly trying to feed on me

Thankfully I've found a small gap for my eyes
By wriggling my thighs
So I can see that Hoarders is almost back from the commercial break
And I'm a bit excited
As the next segment is about a guy who can't wash his clothes no matter how hard he tries