All Of My Heroes Died Nameless

All of my heroes died nameless in boxcars
Or loveless in back alleys looking for whores
Or freezing in heroin squats with near strangers
Or rented apartments they couldn't afford

All of my heroes died nameless in transit
In parking lots, stairwells and derelict bars
In rancid tents stinking of piss in a beer can
Or curled in the cold on a bed of damp card

All of my heroes died nameless mid-stanza
Penning the piece they would never perform
Dreaming and daring and drinking and dying
Out here on the whim of a frost or a storm

All of my heroes died nameless, the hoboes
The vagabonds, troubadours, outlaws and clowns
Laughing and spitting and screaming and dying
To live on forever but, more, to get out

All of my heroes died nameless so I don't
Try to be anyone I know by name
I just hope anonymity leads to my heroes
Then, posthumously, we are one and the same.