What’s Prodigal Mean? by Bogdan Dragos

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♡⊂ʕ•ᴥ•⊂ʔ

Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

The close up image of a woman hugging a teenage boy with only the lower half of the woman's face showing
Image Source: Canva

he felt a bit guilty

about it

but just

a bit

He knew

it was wrong to

be happy

when father came home

drunk

and stupid

but it was the only time

when mother

came to sleep

in his room,

“because your father

needs to cool

off,” as she put it

It was a good deal

because she

slept in his bed

and let him

suck on

her breasts

and told him

stories

“When I was your age,”

tonight’s

story went,

“I slept in a closet when

daddy came

home drunk. And my only

friend there

was a hanged tie

that looked like

a snake. I would stand on

my toes

and whisper in its ear, tell

it about my day,

about how my life

sucked

and how daddy beat me

and mommy

didn’t want me around either.

The snake tie listened.

It listened to

anything, everything…

View original post 376 more words

16

Cum să scapi de fluturii din stomac

( ＾◡＾)っ English version here!
10

to feel romantic about the writer’s block

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j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

By Bogdan Dragos

48 days without a word written maybe there weren’t exactly 48 but he liked to feel romantic about his writer’s block A good period of writer’s block is one that makes you write about what an incapable writer you are perhaps tomorrow, he thought as he came out of the bathroom and opened the bottle of red wine and poured himself a glass as he watched the snow falling outside Last day during a nap he dreamed that the snow reached all the way to the sixth floor where he lived and he saw his wife and two kids walking on top of it, stopping by his window to check on him It was a funny dream The wife and kids left during the summer that passed and never came back and he tried to make himself guilty for not missing them that much, but failed Now…

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8

Allergies by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

An evil looking gray cat staring ahead from behind a gray blanket
Image Source: Canva

“Are you trying to

kill me?” his mother screamed. “Are

you trying to fucking

kill me!?”

He backed away. “Mom, please.”

“Shut up! You brought

a cat. A cat! Of all things. In the house!

Knowing full well

of my allergies. That is a declaration,

young man. A declaration

that speaks

very loud. You are trying

to kill your own mother, you

insane monster!”

An hour later he

was in his room

caressing the cat’s head

and back

while it lay on his chest

and purred

“Can you believe her?” he

said to the cat

“Hardly,” said the cat. “She was

a monster though. You made

the right choice, baby.”

“When I decided to

keep you?” he asked

“Yes,” said the cat. “And when

you stabbed her in

the chest. You’re such a good boy.

That’s why I love you. And

after I help you calm

down…

View original post 93 more words

22

night shifts at the gas station by Bogdan Dragos

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j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

oh, how silly were all those idiots who entered the gas station and approached her cash register complaining about the rain outside 'Just because you think that the rain sucks doesn't make it a universal truth, asshole,' she would've told the last one if she could But as it was she just nodded and forced a lame smile and took the customer's money The gas station was alright most of the time. All that was not alright were the customers Nothing like being locked behind a counter and forced to smile and greet people while having to listen to their stories old ladies and families with kids and truckers and the occasional homeless who stumbles in drunk The worst of all were those who engaged in casual conversation That was the bane of her existence most of ‘em went like: "Nice ring you got there in your eyebrow, didn't it…

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6

Feeble Door by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

A broken, rickety wooden door in a stone wall
Image Source: Canva

Such a feeble door

it was a joke

like made of cardboard

it stayed ajar

and the rusty knob was barely hanging to it

it didn’t actually work

and there was no locking it either

the only thing that made it

close was its misalignment with the

frame

It just kinda pushed into the frame

and stayed like that

It was bad

And it was worse when daddy

got really drunk and

started banging on things

And it was the worst when daddy’s friends

got him even drunker and

made him pass out on the moldy couch

and came in to play with his little girl

Tonight would be

one of those times

-BOGDAN DRAGOS

Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for a gambling company, working twelve-hour shifts locked in a dark office full of TV monitors. There he mostly daydreams and writes poems and stories. He also manages…

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0

Ouija board by Bogdan Dragos

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j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

Well, when you’re desperate you’re… “Me,” he said He was alone in the room and lonely enough to have bought one of those Ouija boards from some old woman who called herself a medium It was time to try it out All he hoped for was a sexy ghost that would haunt him, maybe hurt him a bit, he wouldn’t mind Anything just to take away the soul-crushing loneliness Anything! He said the prayers exactly as the medium instructed and did the breathing exercises and was ready to use the board he moved the piece to spell HELLO got no answer Looked around the room Nothing Again, he spelled HELLO. IS ANYONE HERE? ANYONE AT ALL? ARE YOU FEMALE? Nothing Nothing new at least. Only more loneliness and more frustration and lower down the rabbit hole of misfits he slipped WELL FUCK YOU! he spelled and jammed the pointy side…

View original post 96 more words

4

Azi m-am apucat de scris

ENGLISH TRANSLATION: 

There were times
when I got
home
threw my backpack in the corner
took off my shoes
my jacket
walked into my room
took off my pants, my shirt
put on sweatpants, another shirt
turned on the PC
ate a bag of salty potato chips
drank whatever I could
wasted time

I was happy in those times

Today I write.
17

It’s All a Game by Bogdan Dragos

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Terveen Gill's avatarChewers by Masticadores

A doll lying submerged in green moldy stale water with a frog sitting near its head
Image Source: Canva

but what are we alive for

if not to play

and enjoy

games

life itself is

but a game

and the best at it are

those who don’t

grow up, those who can

still view it

as such

She tried to teach her

four children

this truth

that’s why she brought them

into the backyard

where all the small trash bags,

so well wrapped in tape,

were laid on the grass,

and told them,

“It’s like that Easter game

where you find

the eggs. Only this time it’s

with small trash bags,

and you’ll be hiding

them.” She clapped

her hands a few times. “So let’s

go then. Mommy will

play along this time.

Let’s hide

the bags.”

It was the police

who came to

search for them later

“Can we build a dad

with all

these parts?” asked

one of the kids

after the policemen

won…

View original post 113 more words

8

like making a contract with a dumpster diving company

first came
the 15 page letters

They were
typed in parts and
written by hand in others

the ink color
would change
and the font
and the little doodles on
the margins
 
The only consistency in
the whole project
was the reader’s
inability to understand 93%
of it all

They were threats, alright,
but of what nature?

Well, next came the envelopes
filled with rusty and bloody
razor blades
pubic hairs
bloody tissues
bloody plastic gloves
broken guitar strings
clipped nails
pictures of random people
with their eyes crossed out
by needle scratches

“It’s not so bad
if you think
about it,” he said. “I get free
stuff in the mail. Sure, most
of it is junk,
but every once in a while I get
something good.
Look, the other day I got this
perfectly functioning pen. Heh,
I might even
start writing poetry again…
I’m tellin’ you, man, breaking
the heart of a psychotic girl
is like
making a contract with
a dumpster diving company to deliver
the junk to your mail. For free.
Goddamn, I should really
start writing poetry again. Now that
I don’t have to go
scout the dumpsters myself. I gotta
do something with
all the free time.”
INSTAGRAM
My Poetry Collection
22

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