Gerard Manogue

burrowed in the rhododendron

burrowed into the rhododendron
the spiked drink gets me 
in a gravitationally bound state
barfing towards sagittarius a*
and rolling in the yellow dandelions
to dodge sun baked syringes where
the crocodiles die in lake mead


burrowed into the rhododendron
i throw up big macs and shermsticks 
to a wackadoodle studying calculus 
and the black hole takes its time
forcing my two halves together like
mismatched puzzle pieces 
in a pot of bolied chicory 
the world will end 


burrowed into the rhododendron
i come out of the other side with eight arms
i come out of the other side wanting to shit 
i come out of the other side talking to 
the seventeenth coming of jesus
a toothless salvadorean man 
who runs a botanica
in south central 

the guy i talked to for five minutes 

11:15pm, christmas, lan kwai fong
i remember stone lions, furious
perched outside the crimson mansions

“i am waiting for my girlfriend” 
said the young man
pointing to the mouth
of the hungry club

“she won’t reply to my texts”
“she won’t answer my phone calls”
“she won’t talk to me”
“i’ve left 20 voicemails” 
“i’m going crazy” 

“here, drink this”
i offer my bottle of peach flavored soju
he takes a pull while
russians fight outside 7 eleven 
people crowd the street like doves

“are you sure she’s in there?”
“how do you know?” 
“are you sure?”  
“you want to go in?”

he won’t go in
the cover charge is 200 hkd
i tell him, “love 
is worth more than money”
well aware 
he has neither

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