BŌDYÄCH:
✹ STORY ✹
May of 1951 - May of 1990
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Anastaša Steinkellner and her aunt, Röse, are the owners of a grand hotel in the Anai holy city of Bōdyäch, Nebärav. In the wake of World War II, a civil war breaks out, the catalyst being the religion of Anaism itself. The country's successors to the Nazis will kill, and they will steal, and they will never repent. It seems that there will be no divine armageddon; man will kill himself first.
✹✹✹✹✹✹
"More love streaming out the wrong way,
and I don't want to be the kind that says the wrong way.
But it doesn't work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats.
There were some nice parts, sure,
all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas
and the grains of sugar
on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. I'm sorry
it's such a lousy story.
Dear Forgiveness, you know that recently
we have had our difficulties and there are many things
I want to ask you.
I tried that one time, high school, second lunch, and then again,
years later, in the chlorinated pool.
I am still talking to you about help. I still do not have
these luxuries.
I have told you where I'm coming from, so put it together.
We clutch our bellies and roll on the floor . . .
When I say this, it should mean laughter,
not poison.
I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes.
Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.
Quit milling around the yard and come inside."
- Richard Siken, 'Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out'
May of 1951 - May of 1990
✹✹✹✹✹✹
Anastaša Steinkellner and her aunt, Röse, are the owners of a grand hotel in the Anai holy city of Bōdyäch, Nebärav. In the wake of World War II, a civil war breaks out, the catalyst being the religion of Anaism itself. The country's successors to the Nazis will kill, and they will steal, and they will never repent. It seems that there will be no divine armageddon; man will kill himself first.
✹✹✹✹✹✹
"More love streaming out the wrong way,
and I don't want to be the kind that says the wrong way.
But it doesn't work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats.
There were some nice parts, sure,
all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas
and the grains of sugar
on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. I'm sorry
it's such a lousy story.
Dear Forgiveness, you know that recently
we have had our difficulties and there are many things
I want to ask you.
I tried that one time, high school, second lunch, and then again,
years later, in the chlorinated pool.
I am still talking to you about help. I still do not have
these luxuries.
I have told you where I'm coming from, so put it together.
We clutch our bellies and roll on the floor . . .
When I say this, it should mean laughter,
not poison.
I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes.
Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.
Quit milling around the yard and come inside."
- Richard Siken, 'Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out'
