Wimpy AF | Three Poems

on break ups, memory, archives, data, and a burning question


on break ups, memory, archives, data, and a burning question

what they don’t tell you about backup storage is that they are for disaster recovery
and not preservation
you can reboot, restore and assemble the parts of yr old machinery
make mental models of the cosmic sands you sank yr toes into sanguine and hubristic you can

whale against the hull of a new chassis
slam yr sullen until despair no longer wreaks of sea salt but poolside chlorine semen abounds
and around the nullify you may think

here i am. bits of data. a series of lists:
you will be right in the extent
that you are the checkedsum of the same parts, the same information
in a new configuration
without context you may ask//more terrible than this, will i ever be able to love the same again?

the shadow on your sheets


the shadow on your sheets
is wiry with elephantine skin;
to accentuate your loneliness.

it dreads the light of day
when you drag it along main street
limp wristed arms twisted
around its neck like a noose.

in the window of the television store
walter lee decrees:
there are two types of people in the world,
the ones who take and the ones who get tooken.

walter lee wonders why
your shadow sulks around with sylvia plath
when it could be getting down
with lorraine hansberry.

its intent is to immolate,
to turn the moisture
of every kiss and tear you channel
into steam.

like them, the shadow on your sheets
wants to be free of its outline.
burnt charcoal briquet
and cigarette ashes.


i awoke to the sound of a neighbor crying
someone’s suffering is combing my hair

Wimpy AF is a Brooklyn based art archivist that moonlights as a poet and painter. The AF stands for Afrofuturist.