Rockstar Dreaming (Telecaster Ghazal)

It’s morning, the morning after playing out.
I wake up couch-locked, cradling an unplugged Telecaster.

Not what I would have wanted, not what I’d hoped for.
But it is still a voice I love here in my arms — a Telecaster.

How far from here back to the broken heart from which I sing?
How far is it to any healing I can wring from this Telecaster?

Left hand defeated, left side numb, neck stiffened and sore — 
right hand? Ready to get back to it, back to the Telecaster.

You’ll hear me one day and say, “shit, that sounds like Tony.”
The song is out there somewhere. I plug in the Telecaster.