Farewell To Fender

By: Benjamin Rose

Your rotten fretboard withering away

In little craters cries, “all wood must fail”;

Strrings smeared with grime and blackened in decay

May howl no more, nor below out a tale

Of lust and woe, resounding to the beat

That plastic clipped against the cutting steel

Which carved deep rows of calluses in feet

The heathen heroes numbered for a deal.

Yet I, who never offered up a soul

At Witching Hours to Powers of the Air

In days unmetered, pay away the toll

Demanded Faust, and burn my books for fare.

Farewell, old flame, whose notes no longer fall:

I’ll pawn you to the girl across the hall.

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Benjamin Rose is a poet from Washington, D.C. His poetry has appeared in Beyond Words Literary Magazine, Vermil-ion, and Cathexis Northwest Press.