Even when you're looking
you might never see it coming.

There's a law, it might be Murphy's
but I know it's on the books
because I saw it in the minutes
before the hour of twelve.

I'm only trying to keep my mind on
that thing I might not see
and just as suddenly, it's gone.

Nothing to write home about
it happens now and then
so I'll save my Indian Ink
and poke my eyes out with the pen.

It's Tuesday as expected
and
unexploded as of yet.

Sirens
twenty floors below,
sound travels
don't you know

I knew
but
I always did.