Frank Ocean and the Channel

  I’m ready for a new Frank Ocean album.

                                                    — Trevor N

S'alright s'alright we're gonna channel the end

Cuz we can see good 20-20 all lit up

Phones up, eyes up, hands up, cruise

Riding nobody average no more we bridging

I might be there I might not Maybe I might

A fist, a gold chain, reminders, places I was gonn be

And foggin over everything and everywhere

My lips wet figure still a melted circle

But I got this seeing both sides being both sides talking both sides

Coco's def bullshit but I built something and I'll build again

In the studio again in the car again in the water again

But the sun even'd out in all this haze gotta be good enough this time

Two times three times lost and found and lost again

Its not the sword its not the water its what I'm holdin here

Frank Ocean and the Lake

 I’m ready for a new Frank Ocean album.

                                                    — Jamie P

Fallin inta birdsong song singing highways

So so aged these buildings rise up everywhere

Every day every night every day

So so angled to eights and digging my sidelong self

Dayless notes crumpled gifts in the gutter 

Feel nightful by noon but nothing gaining

See that seeing and sawing grass slides

These raindrops glitter my forehead

This sunshine on dappled down my fingers

Glazelong figure a fine time this time

It’s only awkward if I forget me forgetting you

In the water again forgetting you

A circle of melted ice forgetting you

Circles of fire gonna light my way

Frank Ocean and the Lady in the Lake

I'm ready for a new Frank Ocean album.

                                                    — Alex G

In the water again, in Philly again

Something like fog glittering my skin, glitter on yours

Something like this and this

And you telling me about the Sword again 

I can barely keep my head up

Something like this and this (and this and this and this)

Walking round this closed down town solo and not

It was morning in Milan, I was blinded in Bhutan, it was afternoon in Atlanta, I hustled in Helsinki, it was evening in Camden and I was gone gone gone in Gulf Shores

I was new in New Orleans

I was new in Houston

I was new coast to coast and another and another

I ain't new no more

Nobody calls me Frank no more. 

No more no more no more no more.

Frank Ocean and the Lady of the Lake

 I’m ready for a new Frank Ocean album.

                                                    — Kiki

In the water again, in all your love

Circle of fire them circle of ice

Another morning in Milan

Like muscle memory and memory foam and lovely little Spanish plates

Breathe what it’ll be and what it was

Deserted corners after all the clubs are closed

Waiting for the car, waiting for a call

Why don’t you text me no more?

What was this, what am I, what’s going on, classic, classic

Cuz I know you what you wanna know, I know what you need to feel

This time a’ day / This time a’ night

Every day everyday

Always there for you vs. never sighted

In the future we are free

Everything Is on Balance in This Life

Why do we feel

This Is Nothing Like the End (2)

It means again and still at the same time when standing alone

vs. Time Passing

Do You Have a Favorite Vegetable

Do you have a favorite color?

Strike strike strike

Mysterious numbers across mysterious frequencies are eventually lawsuits and Chicago and architecture

Sunday dinner

Spoiled meat

Assorted feelings

Everything’s complicated and everything’s not, and I’m not falling for those traps this time

I’m not 

When balance is a thing and everyone loves the Golden Hour and

I’m not

Falling for failing for filing forever

I’m not

Counting it counts, upwards — starts are to spirals as something is to now

I’m not now, now now now, now n-now, now.

Ni le Jus de Cerises ni le Soda

Let it rain like kingdoms not restraints

Nor nor nor is light light light

Let it become like diamonds balanced on a pointy end

Gemstone or Plato or fresh from the shapes palette, whatever works

It’s everyone vying to pick up the tab before we’ve learned that right of way is a thing

It’s a relationship between a direction and the number 8 that only just came to us with a flash

Of skittering pixels

Of Westward Expansion

Of reckless leader-picking

Of meme dances and their dancers

I’m talking about balance, or I mean to be

We’re not even talking about the game

We’re talking about balance

Balance

But you see, Time’s thing is it keeps going

Keeps breaking things

I’m so sorry

Have Have Haven’t Been

Incredibly under text messages

Ever forward because the equations said so

Not saying so

Not still and/or not moving and/yet moving

Like the last scene done well.

+

And like a motion, an electric motion, wiperblades wiping, interlingual exchange, evangelism, hung juries leaving the courthouse, every lunar eclipse in a leap year, and another autumn around the corner.

+

All the layers of a Smith Island Cake

Personal preferences

Rain in April in every one of my 51 years in every place I’ve ever lived

And yet, and how, and when, and even.

+

Like hearing the rain there, over the phone, when it is raining here.

Ars Poetica, October 2024

All my worst poems saying I was here

All my best poems, We were here 

Somewhere in between, You were here