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A Wrong Note
I ran past traffic cones at risk of danger,
Snuck into an elevator on the lower east side,
Even tried to make small talk with a stranger
In my futile attempt at finding a safe place to hide.
Of course it was waiting on the top floor
Insisting that I listen more, more, more.
I still pressed onward, made a mad dash for the street,
But it somehow curried favor with one and all -
It covered sirens, copied the sound of my feet,
Hurried their rhythm till I was liable to fall.
Each place I found it still invaded,
A persistent buzz that pervaded.
It blasted from speakers, roared up from the subway,
Interrupted the broadcast of a ballgame.
It entered a club where I heard a genius play,
Taking the beauty he gave and staking claim.
It stuck around till I climbed into bed.
I just couldn’t get it out of my head.
I began to hear it where singers sing,
Feverishly humming, forever chiming.
It set like a salt stain where church bells ring
Imposing itself upon their good timing.
And though it’s for certain the sound has diminished
Deep down I understand it’s not truly finished.
It will return with the might of Big Ben
Ready to tap on my window again.
