3 poems from the closet

loss
the weakness, it grows,
the resistance, its cold.
today is the yesterday i will regret tomorrow,
an emptiness, it grows,
a heart thats falling, a broken window into natures arms,
unconsciousness beckons and the frailty thickens.
i look onto the sky and alone i stand
faceless, godless, joyless. paving my way into the nights unfriendly hands.

party
me. dry cotton. wasteland crayon. i am lavishing on the remains of my skull.
gouge it out, wash it out. enter the wastelands of my territory.
everything else steers through eyes, glass and then piston through my burnt lips.
tell the fountain about the family we had.
the sink, the mills, the digs, loose bills, eggs - everything else shines, but this.
my personal methods escape me, flicker through them cotton eyes.
through this tigers nautical, my midnight deepens into morning.
waterfall emptiness, cried and dried, all the cotton has evaporated.i sit alone after the party. my temporary insanity finished.

taxi's
brother lou, stay up in a perfectly windowed sky.
alternate the realms from black to grey, sit back in drivers position, hold on to your vision, limited yet vast.
the scene, i am driving by the woods.
watermelon sky dripping with blood.
blue glue temporarily fastened to the doors corner.
no one in time to catch the cab.
mysteriously on the other side. a safe journey, now i am dead.