The Other Shoe

Something awful’s gonna happen to me,
I don’t know if I’m gonna be ready for it.
‘Cause fortune swings like a pendulum in a clock
about to upend and knock me into a deep pit.
So I know that trouble brews,
but I don’t know when or why or how or much less what I’ll do.
So I just hope for subtle clues
as I shudder in my shoes and wait for the bloody news, and I wonder:
What’ll it be?
When’s it gonna hit me?
And why does it seem like my mind can never get free?

It all started last week when I had a windfall.
I gave it all to charity to try to forestall
the other shoe dropping like a medicine ball on my skull!
I think the world is ready to pour all its troubles upon me,
but it’s not like I’m Gandhi,
who can bear the weight of so heavy a fate!
I hate the feeling good graces only mean I’m in trouble now.
When life is dealing aces I’m scared to double down.
It’s unappealing how my face is locked in a subtle frown,
I’m thinking about peeling out for new places or another town.
But I can’t evade it!
If the piper wants a bribe it’s too high to have paid it.
But I’ve made it through this kind of cycle often before.
The hard heart of life’ll soften and even the score.
So I stifle coughing and it’s into the breach once more:
the dice’ll drop and then, my friends, I will know what is in store.

OK.

Something’s always going to happen to me,
I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for it.
But fortune springs right back when it smacks me down:
before it’s back around, it always lets me rally a little bit.