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[Dedicated to King Qudus Kafo]

Our parents will never hear who we truly are when we’re with our friends. They’d shutter and scoff at the posture. Feel fright of the monster. They forget they were us one day. And we’ll do the same someday. Who will keep our stories alive? The nights we look unrecognizable to our responsible future selves? They shake their heads but we act like black is the only thing that matters in fact. Listening to Mobb Deep brought me comfort, they wouldn’t expect that. “What up, Black, hold your head wherever you at,” I can’t hear that line without thinking of you, and I always told you, too. Show the culture. I speak truth cause that’s what I saw in you. I descended upon this land and asked them t ...