Thursday, June 28, 2018

Omen to Get Your Ass Up by Angel Nafis


Omen to Get Your Ass Up

It’s hard for me to believe, but, believe
I do       the morning passed me by without
a thought or surrender           I am a miserable
Sunday shut-in           thirst caked up
without a quench in sight         until

I see my homie           waiting to cross
the impossible intersection of Flatbush & Woodruff
It could be         any nigga         afro’d, with metallic
red headphones, gym shoes, unbothered by the day,
but I know         who I know       So I tear open the

bedroom window           force my own messy head
through the metal bars           which are really just
suggestions anyway                     & right away the air
is kind as ever against my chin           trailing my neck,
my breast-plate, an alarm       as good as a homie who

I yell down to      who sees me now & is Hey Boo-ing
rushing past a zillion strangers with her take-out chicken
to the door of my building      no matter
the dice game                or puddles of piss
She says a walk around the hood
got her whole situation right
so now it’s clear who I can be
Summoning her             is summoning me

Here I am           glad to be another loud mouth
through an open window           exercising the right
to be beloved                I am saved for a moment  
the suspended heaven of being recognized
Hollering
Ashley!           Ashley!           Ashley!

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