Marking Time

If you live in my town

and it snows,

you’re only allowed to park

on the odd side of the street

on odd days.

But what if you’re the kind of person

for whom every day

is an odd day?

The cops gave me a ticket today.

$35 dollars. An odd number.

It’s an even day.

So now I want to get even.

I want to go to the police station

and nail 35 copies of this poem

to their front door–

add a little oddity,

a bit of my strange brand of beauty, 

to their day.

That’ll show ‘em not to mess with us oddballs.

Yeah. That’ll even up the odds.