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!