Odd Days & Even Days (35 Theses) – a poem

If you live in my town

and it snows,

you’re only allowed to park

on the odd-numbered 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–

to 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.

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