Sonnet – “the six strings of yesterday”

I was privileged to be able to buy

my first electric on 48th street,

an Epiphone, black with flat-wounds & amp.

Then I swapped a bag of amphetamines

for a Rickenbacker with slanted frets.

Sacrificed a grand on a new Gibson.

Oh Where are the six strings of yesterday?

One walked at a party. Another flew

to California. The last one quit me

for a drummer I used to know. I went

down to the crossroads, held out my hand,

& waited for the touch, a new tuning

a bent note, a wicked chord, a pitch fork,

singing,

timor mortis conturbat me.