"A Prayer to Kami-sama" by Maya Quinn

O, Tom of Toonami, I watch
as you sail on The Absolution.
I stay grounded on the couch for
I am hungry for kunai,
katanas to kodachis, and even
shuriken to the throat,
spraying blood onto my LED screen;
or comical romance, full of
the flowery and dramatic moe.
Bring forth the foreign animation.
I revel in the rice paper doors,
bamboo or straw tatami mats.
I will die if there’s another cliffhanger.
Did Eren die last week,
or was the bloody scream for show?
I’ve invested nearly eighty-four hours
of my week and will strive for more.
I’ve devoted myself to you
by neglecting my grandma’s phone calls
and feeding my dog at nearly midnight.
So please, deliver to me
my unhealthy addiction
crowded with fetishes of stoic
characters wearing glasses
and Japanese accents
from Hokkaido to Tokyo.
Ichigo stares at me with
dilated pupils, his hair at its peak
length. The air thickens with intensity
because he feels me staring, waiting.
The moment when the opening dawns,
I’ll sing romanji praises to you.

Here Maya read this poem.