the old dog (+audio)

he was a very old dog and
he left hairs everywhere he sat
yet despite all that
she let him sleep in the bed besides her

Only because her family
said it was wrong

By definition
everything those people called wrong
was right and vice versa

So the old dog slept with her

The old dog was all she
had left

The old dog was the only one who
stood by her side
that time she overdosed on sleeping pills

The old dog was the only one
who didn't agree with mother when
she said, "Oh joy, another suicide attempt.
I wish she'd succeed at
something for once in life but…
well, no such luck, I guess."

The old dog had died
four days ago
but she still kept him in bed
besides her
Yep, I know I’ve the voice of a 96 year old man on his deathbed despite being in my 20s. Also my pronunciation’s all over the place due to lack of practice (English ain’t my 1st language). But behold I got drunk and silly one afternoon and told a few friends about my poetry blog. You know how these things end up. Here I am now recording my own voice — with intonation, mind you — reading my poem.

Short Interview with Bogdan Dragos

Well, believe it or not, someone actually decided I'm interesting enough to be interviewed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

I know, right? 

( ͡ ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡°)
\╭☞ \╭☞ here's the INTERVIEW on GOBBLERS / MASTICADORES


Oh, and expect to see poems of mine there. Soon.



PS
Big thanks to the editors! 



You never left

It's the little things that tell
the difference
but many times there's no observer
to notice them

Little things like
ignoring all the beer in the fridge
and going straight for the cupboard
where the tea bags
stood untouched for years

Chamomile
Caramel
Pear

A fine combination

He took out one little bag
and filled the kettle with water
and placed it on the electric stove

and looked out the window
while waiting for the steam to whistle

Rainy weather outside
Overcast weather inside, in his heart

Also he had no smokes left
and no one to smoke them with
so he took the lighter from inside his
pocket and lit it
against the glass of the window
and said to the flame, "You said
you'd leave. But you
never left. It was a lie. Else why do
I feel you closer now than when your
body stood right next to mine? Doesn't
make sense. You never left…"

The glass started to blacken around
the flame and he retreated it

"You never left," he said. "You are so close
now and had taken over so much
of my mind that I started doing
the things
you loved and I hated."

The kettle whistled
behind him

He turned around.
"You never left…"
Yep, I know I’ve the voice of a 96 year old man on his deathbed despite being in my 20s. Also my pronunciation’s all over the place due to lack of practice (English ain’t my 1st language). But behold I got drunk and silly one afternoon and told a few friends about my poetry blog. You know how these things end up. Here I am now recording my own voice — with intonation, mind you — reading my poem.

today I don’t wanna die

She walked on tiptoes around the
house and
bounced a few times and
spun like a ballerina
and sang, "Today I don't wanna diiIiIIie."

It was rare for her
but he sure
was glad to see it. Glad and now
a bit anxious
not to do something that would
disrupt her
happiness. It could be anything really

She grabbed a towel and wrapped
it around his neck
to bring his body closer to hers
and said, "Let's open a wine
bottle and make love."

He smiled and nodded
and instinctively brought a hand to
his head to feel the
scab from the last opened bottle of
wine
Yep, I know I’ve the voice of a 96 year old man on his deathbed despite being in my 20s. Also my pronunciation’s all over the place due to lack of practice (English ain’t my 1st language). But behold I got drunk and silly one afternoon and told a few friends about my poetry blog. You know how these things end up. Here I am now recording my own voice — with intonation, mind you — reading my poem.

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