When It Unwinds

So, decided once again to try my hand writing poetry, one of the great cliches of the modern day, I'm afraid. Good poetry should, I've always felt, be like good music- nothing excess, nothing lacking. Use the words you need, and leave out the extras. So this particular somewhat-film-noir blank verse was more or less a first draft, based on watching too many episodes of Twin Peaks, but that is a kickass song in Fire Walk With Me-at any rate, here goes-

When It Unwinds

So this is where sometimes
You see yourself, and then, perhaps
there's an indication of your smile at the corner of your lips
and even then your eyes are almost pale blue like the night
something happened, but the recall is gone
Apart from a cry of horns, saxophones fed by the breath of masked-face men
and coming home to a dozen missed calls like a hundred accusations
Sometimes there it's a world of illusion that makes you think tomorrow will never come
(because it'll never get here)
Yet the whole of the mystery is explained
in the glass tube of neon, fuzzy-edged when you stare so close you go damn near blind
where an electrical current buzzes cold
perhaps the current that winds through
all the changing lights from here to there and back again
But it's just a sign that says Red Stripe, and you think
Damn, that sounds good
this is, or at least was
a dream- because tomorrow, the sun rising again
(Will never get here)

I'll admit, I'm a little rusty, but hope that wasn't too terrible! Take care, everyone