Weeaboo.
Owning this geeky word was not something I immediately understood.
Coming from a school where geeks were castaways,
with Otaku and weeb being even worse terms than that.
But now she, who loves video games, and cartoons
- a geek herself, dare I say, -
calls me a not only a weeaboo,
a term revered here,
but a failed one.
Many references I lack to see,
My circle of watched media is constrained,
me being the picky geek that I may be.
The simple act of putting on fluffy ears that I deem kawaii,
She takes as the action of a 'furry'.
I rarely see memes, something that not only geeks look at,
but social media as well,
yet she acts as though it lies within the domain of otakus.
Saying ohauyo, tadima, or even simply arigato,
gives me a snide reply of, "freaking weeb"
Making pebbles into boulders is her specialty.

I should have run to Japan, to be the writer that I can, to sing folk to girls who are smiling because they can, I should have road the rails, staring at the never ending cities with hearts ablaze, ducking down into a dreamland maze of alley ways, give my poems to hobos and gays, and find any naru to sing karaoke, go into dens and clubs that traded air for smoking, I'd be the talk of toast, and the **** of the island, or I'd get drunk with samurais on a foam pylon, I'd ask a geisha to dance, but get nervous and spill my drink all over my pants, I'd go with malcontents and roughdy otakus as we hit the arcades on speed, I'd stay at a hotel and get married married in the states, I'd fall in love with a girl for a weekend and shed tell me she hates fancy dinners but loves dates, I would end up sleeping in the hills, high and full of chills, I'll tell school children what the stars mean, even though they can't be seen, I'll write a poem about my sin, of wanting my right, my right of a writing man, in Japan.