A Comic Shop In Michigan
for David Pascal
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Hideaki Anno, for I walked down the
sidestreets under the trees with a heartache self-conscious musing on Sailor
Moon.
In my ennui, to shop for new images, I went into the neon genesis market,
dreaming of your animations!
What posters and what pretty soldiers! Ersatz families shopping at night!
Aisles full of otaku! Shonen in the anime, shojo in the manga--meanwhile,
Kunihiko Ikuhara, what were you doing outside in the rosebushes?
I saw you, Hideaki Anno, friendless, lonely old fanboy, poking through the
disks on the new release shelf and eyeing the yaoi girls.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed Kaji? What price rentals?
Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant aisles of fans following you, and
followed in my imagination by a NERV operative.
We strode around the open shelves together in our solitary fancy browsing
magazines, possessing every garage model kit, and never passing the cashier.
Where are you going, Hideaki Anno? The doors close in a hour. What course
does Exelion chart tonight?
(I touch my Eva manga and dream of our odyssey in the comic shop and
face the Hedgehog's Dilemma.)
Will we watch all night in solitary rooms? The screen adds shade to shade,
lights out in apartments, we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost Japan of childhood past Marysville-built
Hondas in driveways, home to our silent chamber?
Ah, dear brother, elder, lonely old dream-teacher, what Third Impact did
you have when Minmei quit singing her song and you washed up on a lifeless
strand and stood watching the siren disappear on the red waters of Tartarus?
East Lansing, Michigan
January 2003
for David Pascal
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Hideaki Anno, for I walked down the
sidestreets under the trees with a heartache self-conscious musing on Sailor
Moon.
In my ennui, to shop for new images, I went into the neon genesis market,
dreaming of your animations!
What posters and what pretty soldiers! Ersatz families shopping at night!
Aisles full of otaku! Shonen in the anime, shojo in the manga--meanwhile,
Kunihiko Ikuhara, what were you doing outside in the rosebushes?
I saw you, Hideaki Anno, friendless, lonely old fanboy, poking through the
disks on the new release shelf and eyeing the yaoi girls.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed Kaji? What price rentals?
Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant aisles of fans following you, and
followed in my imagination by a NERV operative.
We strode around the open shelves together in our solitary fancy browsing
magazines, possessing every garage model kit, and never passing the cashier.
Where are you going, Hideaki Anno? The doors close in a hour. What course
does Exelion chart tonight?
(I touch my Eva manga and dream of our odyssey in the comic shop and
face the Hedgehog's Dilemma.)
Will we watch all night in solitary rooms? The screen adds shade to shade,
lights out in apartments, we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost Japan of childhood past Marysville-built
Hondas in driveways, home to our silent chamber?
Ah, dear brother, elder, lonely old dream-teacher, what Third Impact did
you have when Minmei quit singing her song and you washed up on a lifeless
strand and stood watching the siren disappear on the red waters of Tartarus?
East Lansing, Michigan
January 2003