Lone Dragon

The pipe smoking man dragged his talons along his thighs
They were spreading. He had never thought of his weight before.
Maybe it was only because he was now thirty
A fire roared in front of him
Crackling at his torture. One on a love seat for two.
Maybe it was only because he was now thirty
His tail twitched and swooshed to scratch his ear
It was cracked and dry. Damn sunshine
Damn dragon's breath, to hell
And with these thoughts he took another swig of lager