parking tickets

i wake up with a parking ticket
on my forehead. i am so sick of the horrors
coming when i'm not looking. i guess that is
just part of their game. i check to see
the violation & it reads, "dreaming
too close to a fire hydrant." 
i put it with the others: a little box in
the crawlspace beside raccoon skeletons 
& rat fossils. i refuse to pay which means
more will come. which means officers
will put my dna in a little "wanted" list. 
i try to think of where i might sleep
to escape them. i craft a cloud like a tree house.
clouds are not allowed in this area of town
& i do not have a permit anyway. 
everything is better without a permit.
i do not want permission from any kind
of cop for where & when i can touch the ground.
i ask the dirt, "can i park here?" the dirt says,
"please. please stay." i make a pair of wings
from my parking tickets. fly over the town. 
drop messages to strangers that say,
"i hope you break the law today." i hope they get
that tiny thrill in the plum dark. i am sometimes
afraid. once when i was a child my mother
had an arrest warrant out for her because of parking tickets.
we had to sleep with our eyes circling the block.
i don't remember how she paid them. 
their orange envelopes bright against the dashboard.
then, blazing on the kitchen table. i stole one.
just one. i filled the envelope with nails & buried it
in the yard behind the garage where the sharp
& wild weeds bloomed.