Storage Wars

Storage Wars

A life collecting dust, untrust what you are
Where will you tinsel to?
Shouldn’t we just exist?
Wings you to Nottingham
Uninvest your body, then really think about your mind
What about the volcano’s magnum opus?
You know it
We all have to eat your elephant
Piece of shit that you are
Relish the sandwich
As couples could say, “This too shall pass.”
Meet Mr. Unnecessary
Long for interconnected plumbing, which runs down through the sexes, and into the sewers
Spill nuclear wants of something more magical
Reimagine anyone ever could
Dream of Mt. Suribachi
Shovel dog shit into an early Marxism
Sip on your pillow
It has a purpose
Behind the glass, everything’s stained and under the sink
It isn’t kitsch sustenance
But what is?
A stranger’s idea to break free of the knee joint subculture came crashing through the veranda while you were in the basement and on the net
And a baked alive boycott the factory underwriter was the type of electronic music master named Kid-O
Catch your breath
We are witness to your clit
Bludgeon a Bildungsroman, then extort the nouveau
Tunnel through my core
Your mine
Christ’s slogan was “Live mAs,” and his new nickname is Malcolm X
Let your oral cavity give a Yelp! review
Devastate my vocal chords
May your attire this season decorate nostalgia
As your pulses become eyelashes,
Eeyore produces content… and it’s all excrement


Have a new offing, but work from home
Shelter fitness for alone, but keep the pocket drawing moving
This will mean nothing
But it’s the only thing that matters
Let your teeth be numb, until a ghost talks
I see the evening
And I’m paging you violently
Your Will’s on The View
I may be crippled, but I stand for something
Keep your chin through the ozone
Reverie a crevasse
Let the anti- crumble on my head
It’s a future worth recognizing
I Morse like ones & zeros
Green meat armor
Sweet ink my chimney
Then let Santa suck me out
Shower you in two
A vestigial being
Allow cacti to play
Shawshank the Serengeti
Blanket an anaconda
Got it
Xray the moon, then out the police
Your face is handsome
My head is awful
A yellowish guest can color the fire
Alveoli is fine
Courage is overrated
I’m beyond the hair
A phantom was a whirling dervish?
Pointillism is selfish
Close your eyes and finger your land
That part of me where you’ll cadaver
What are you having for supper?
Raw eggs & Hollandaise
Only wear shoes if the gym fits
Psilocybin isn’t supposed to be fun
Stingray is served on your best cold plate
Make the table take the name
Fake flowers shouldn’t cease
Domestic panther
Violence was just trying to see the light
Ganesha makes monsters of us all
Depression is Cajun by now
Wolfman is bland
Yahweh is idle. Shan’t we reward Him?
Don’t bite your ancestors
Smirk at your own risk
Drive by braille
My jeep derisively weaves
Then mosaic your digits through it
Fodor was weak
Shouldn’t you iCloud the cream?
Then why would you burn it?
Avery a spirit
Leek the The
Everything is leading suspended

A Mirror? […] A Chemistry?

Stacks of Sardines
I’ll take the Tower
The tusk of life is moving
Ivory a little
Let your sweat bead off the bridge, and into the water
Live as though you want to die
Across the way, a bullet spiderwebs a window
Everything goes blank
I see you
Didn’t we meet at the Met?
This romantic comedy’s strange
It’s all coming back
A mirror
A chemistry
It boils down to this—
Brutal architecture of the body
Cut your bra off
Let the sun sink in
Reveal your Amber beer
Brisk past industry, to a late breakfast of oil & eggs
The tank takes off the top of your head
A garden to your brain
I stayed strapped w/spaghetti,
But nun is fine
A hag’s cauldron smoking
You get high, bat,
Stay low
Our part the city,
You still disgust me
Ingest your earbuds, and then collapse
Show me your hiding place
Tell me your sliding scale
Let us sprinkle salt from your wounds
And drink the viaduct
Sawdust your eyeballs, then staple your ear
Forest creatures foment
But we ferment masturbation
Embrace Jude, even as you’re riding the waves
Be a slave.
Happiness is dead.
Your sweater vest is broken
But the frayed edges massage my soft underbelly
Breathe mantra into you
Bull me taught and pick my flings
These are everlasting
Vagabond sage at dawn, then spin the Himalayas
Land on a voodoo doll
Hieroglyphics are Lord
Pound the pavement
Make it old
Extract the worm out the apple
It wants in Big way
Take a bite,
Chat about symmetry
Walk barefoot during the day, then give me the Yun roof’s last shout
Claw tooth and nail to get into vials
The Yankees would
(end?) Wild

Charles J. March III is a hospital corpsman veteran currently living in California. His work has appeared in Fugitives & Futurists, Mercurius, tragickal, Sulfur “Surrealist Jungle,” Centre for Experimental Ontology, RIC Journal, Cephalopress,, etc. More can be found at LinkedIn & SoundCloud.

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