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End-of-life Situation

i was on a bus from nc to nyc, and while passing through newark, i happened to look out the window and see a man sprawled in the middle of street beside a stopped car. there was a police officer there with a flashlight. i couldn't tell if perhaps the person had been hit by the car, or if the person was alive or dead, but i wondered really hard what would be going through the mind of a person somewhere between life and death. and then i wrote this poem.


An angel (I guess) stands
over my shoulder
training his flashlight on my face.
Does he mean to wake me, to blind me?

Did my pupils dilate? I have lots of small
guilts pumping through my valves:

I neglected to take out the trash
this morning. I argued with
mother and cursed her in my mind.
I drank from the juice carton upon
waking today, lips and morning breath
direct on the spout; stole
envelopes and postage from
work.

Shall I walk on into the light?
They say the true devil is an angel of light.
They say the true God is a God of light.
This angel, posing, training over my shoulder

Who sent him to me?

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first i was taught
that i dont know what i think

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About me

  • I'm call me aja
  • From nyc
  • 20something, black, woman, reader, writer, about to be a student again. i think i'd like to be heard (or read). child/grandchild of immigrant folk. yearning to travel. desirous of wisdom. a little bit ordinary, but working at being less so.
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