Lindsay Bell received her MFA in Poetry from Columbia College Chicago. Her poems have also appeared or are forthcoming in Barrelhouse, Diagram, Black Clock, Crawdad, Buffalo Carp, Columbia Poetry Review, and elsewhere.
Telecaster
The devils are dead, but they’re still a-quiver.
If you place a quarter on that amp, you’ll hear it buzz.
One last tingle before all the change goes away, all
the special is drained from the tap and you’re left to foot
the tab for the garage band that took off before one,
stuffing their cords into knapsacks. They did their best
to ape Bacchus, but mostly just petered out on Zeppelin
covers. No matter, the music can carry itself across
any number of random holes, mow down cycle-tattered
eardrums. The barre chords fret by their own animus,
have no need for the tedium of players and their weak ways.