i didn’t expect a sign
after unclasping the first grasp
a stranger a strange bar a strange city
he spoke to me
i rarely chat but this time i did
and found an ordinary old man rhymer
proud of his ordinary lines
clasping his love for a heroin fuckwit
she’s his siren
she’s spending his blood
perhaps he spoke a novel’s plot
to impress
for he was no anger
but he has gifted me