Adeola Adeniyi

You walk to Ricky’s on Rockaway and Lavonia Avenue and see Quincy Baker through the window sitting at the bar drinking a Coke. You wish you had worn your leather jacket ’cause the switchblade in your pocket would fit better in its secret inside pocket. You’re carrying a serious bankroll and know folks here will

White folks give us money on the subway. It was a mid-July Friday afternoon today at two and me and my homeboy Terrell have been on the uptown platform for the 1 train at Columbus Circle since eight holding up signs saying, “A dollar from y’all can help send our black asses back to Africa,” and they’ve been dropping fives and tens into our plastic jars ever since then.