Self Storage
on
a nondescript strip of interstate
between a dollar store and car
parts dealer an old military airport
with a razor wire fence sprouts
dozens of rows of low slung
barracks
converted to storage units for
anyone’s detritus seeking a home,
the bulbous billboard catches your
eye:
A1A Self Storage
Built-In Shelves
Climate Controlled
you slow down
thinking of yourself on a shelf
a place for your Urn of ashes
in a dark cool room cut off
from the world, protected
from marauders or at least
from your next door neighbors,
you ask yourself if you’d have to
rent extra units for your id and
superego
6 thoughts on "Self Storage"
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Poets,Artists,Humorist should get a discount we have so much weird shit.
Very funny, very good!
Jim wow!
I love love love this poem.so much.
Everything about it.
The details ring so true, it achieves total suspension of disbelief for me.
I echo the humor comments. Pro writer !!!
And the ending, which I’ll stop with cuz I could go on, is so subtly deep and such a mischievous self questioning that we walk away wondering as well.
Absolutely have to say one final thing. The poets mind that read self storage and produced this work from it is
for me astounding and comforting in a way I can’t put into words
Yep — a work of brilliance. You paint a splendid picture in those first lines … the result is a fine poem, and funny too. Agree with Coleman — to go where you go from Self Storage is just wondrous.
The self-storage metaphor is perfect. There’s a nice mix of tone here: it’s slightly funny, somewhat sad and very arresting. A wonderful work!