Channel Orange — A Poem Inspired by Frank Ocean

since the dawn of time,
I’ve been categorized into that class just directly,
but barely, below all of the Super Rich Kids.
That classification is about, Not Just Money, but character, as well.
Whether we were Lost in a Crack Rock together
or inspired by a groundbreaking Fertilizer individually,
we were always infatuated by the Pyramids on the dollars
that our parents gave us without having to perform any sort of chores aside from loving them unconditionally (under the condition that they gave us money when we asked)
After all, we were White, we didn’t have much else to do other than spend our parents’ money and jerk off
(I assure you that I never even considered Thinkin Bout You, that’d be disgustingly insulting to your elegant perfection)
So, to kill time, we invested all our lil’ moneys into a Bad Religion of our own,
because the one at our private catholic school didn’t really seem like it was going to be improving itself any time soon:
the priests were far too touchy, the nuns were always too snappy, and the altar boys were naturally too timid,
so, we became our own Monks within our own religion.
Authority was in our hands: we could justify any means to every End.
we wouldn’t (or perhaps, couldn’t?) establish a concrete currency within our religion/organized community,
instead we simply colored a delicate Pink Matter inside the lines of a traced portrait that my girlfriend Elizabeth Jones III had created one day,
(the tracing resembled a dolphin, a rather queer animal with spikes on it’s back, stripes on it’s elongated tail, and black beady eyes like a blind mouse)
then we would play “airplane” and we would all “fly” around and drop these pink dolphins out of the charter plane while Pilot Jones would dictate which direction we flew in.
Message to Readers:
This poem was influenced and inspired by the album “Channel Orange” by Frank Ocean, and simply nobody or nothing else had any stake in what was written. Just Frank. Oh, and me, I guess.
