Looking for Hazards

A poem about the time I was the asshat

There I was 

double parked in the rain, 

one wheel on the curb, 

with my hazards on, 

blinking. 

I decided to leave it, 

good enough. Go for a walk, 

try not to look back at it. 

And when people passed me, 

pointing and exclaiming, 

I would pretend it wasn’t mine 

and point and exclaim in 

the direction they came from

—but more foul like, 

‘look at this asshat!’ 

and they’d turn around and see nothing, 

because they didn’t double park, 

one wheel on the curb 

with their hazards on. 

I walked for twenty, 

playing with the rainbow oil 

in the puddles. 

I thought I was just going 

around the block but when 

I got to my block it turned out 

I was just going around and 

that wasn’t my block. 

No car, no curb, no hazards. 

No people pointing, no exclaiming. 

Just me looking around with 

one foot in an oily puddle and 

keys in my pocket that belonged to me 

and nothing else. 

And the rain just kept coming down, 

so I kept going around 

looking for hazards. 

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