two Monsters

after tonight
he will never again
doubt that
madness
is ultimately
beautiful
yet
ultimately
not worth it

And her name was
Six

it’s not that weird when you’re
drunk

Though only he was
drunk
while she said she only
accepts energy drinks

They bought two cans
of Monster
from the vending machine
outside the bar
and when they got to his place
she asked him to put
them in the freezer

“But wrap them in a wet
paper towel first,” she
added. “It’s a cool
trick. They’ll be good to drink
in no time.”

“I don’t think I could
drink–”
he began

and she interrupted, “They’re
both for me.
But don’t worry
we’ll both benefit from
them.
You’ll see soon enough.”

She was pretty much the personification
of the goth style

Pretty much the first image
that would come to
any boy’s mind when
told to imagine a
‘big titty goth GF’

As they went into the
bedroom
and climbed into bed
he asked again for her
real mane

“I done did told you
already, darling. It’s Six.
My name’s Six. And it’s also
very unimportant.”

He was drunk enough to
let it slide

drunk enough to let a lot
of things slide

Though she would not let him
slide inside her

“Not yet,” she said. “We need
those cans of Monster
first.”

“What for?”
he asked

“You’ll see.
Hehe, like being teased?”

He watched her
and smiled and nodded

“I thought so. You really look
the type. And I really
love teasing. It’s the mildest
form of torture.
Do you like torture?”

“Uh… like what?”

“Either giving or receiving.
D’you like?”

“I don’t think o’ that.”

“Then perhaps it’s an
undiscovered detail about you.
Something you haven’t
explored yet. Imagine what a
shame it would be
to go through life without
knowing the absolute heights
of pain and pleasure.
To not know this
is hell.”

Again, too drunk
to be having a conversation. He
felt like listening to
someone read him
poetry.
So he just sat back in bed
naked
and watched her
and waited for those damn
cans to cool down in the
freezer

“Life is all about the ups
and downs of
the human experience,” she
went on, a dark smile
on her face.
"Yet so many people stop in the
middle. What truly wasted lives
they lead.
To never know the extremes
is a sin.
But it’s fine to be sinful. What’s
not fine is to
actively seek to avoid, to
stay away from
the extremes.
If you’re someone like that
then the gods will send you
a teacher, a guide
to show you the way.
I am that.
And I can only lead one follower
at a time, for it is
necessary that I give him my
full, undivided attention.
And all he needs is to
follow along
like a good dog.
That means to walk by my side on
all fours
while I hold him in a tight leash.
He must sit when I tell him
to sit and
look up at the sky when I tell him
to, and open up big
for me to piss into his mouth, spit
into it, put my cigarette
out against his tongue.
Like how it sounds?”

“Huh? I ain’t into–”

She was quick to silence
him with one slim finger
against the lips. “Shh. You don’t have to
fight it.
As a human being, this is
simply your true nature. It’s who
you are. Agree or not
your real self wants to touch
the limits. To go into the extremes.
It’s alluring. You can’t resist it.”

“I…”

“Look, I want you to lie down
for me. C’mon, on your back.
Lie down. Let me grab this.” She
placed her hand on his penis
and worked on
getting it hard again. “Good. Now
close your eyes. Close them
good for me
and try to relax. Breathe deep.
And accept that now, at this
time and in this place only my voice
exists for you.
You listen to it as it tells you to
imagine.
Imagine you are yourself
but in a world where you have power.
All of it. You can do
and have whatever you want. By
simply asking for it.
Now…
How long d’you think it’ll take for you
to get bored of
it all and
seek to go higher? Seek to go
into the extremes.
Remember, there are absolutely no
consequences to your actions
and you have anything you ask for.
How long will it take for you
to laugh at those
less fortunate than yourself? How long
until you rub it in their face?
Until you start playing games
with them
to amuse yourself, to relieve
boredom…
Their lives are in your hands.
Would you not command them to
walk on all fours
in your presence? And would you not
starve them to drive them
to desperation and then
feed them your feces? Piss on
them?
Would you not enact your wildest
most depraved fantasies with
them?
They’re your pawns. Make them fight
each other for a piece of
bread. Have them murder their own
children. Eat them. Have
a mother choose between fucking her
own son
or having her limbs removed one
by one. See the desperation in
her eyes
as she’s faced with the choice.
The dying light.
Have them beaten, whipped, suffocated,
cut a thousand times, branded with
the hot iron, raped. Oh, there
can be so much rape.
How do you feel about having a woman
glued to the ground on all fours, stuck
there so she can’t move
and then have a metal pipe inserted
between her legs. A long metal pipe.
Then build a fire to the other
end of it. It’s metal so it’ll
heat up, hehe. And tell her
that she has to make you cum with
her mouth before
the pipe heats up to the point of
melting her insides?
Doesn’t the thought just get
you hard?
But wait. What if she does make you
cum with her mouth
and you just let her
ordeal continue anyway, eh?
Hahahahah!”

He went completely soft
and shrank
despite her hand
trying to achieve the
opposite result

“Listen,” he said, “I don’t know
about that…”

She brought her hand
to his face
started caressing his
cheek, tried to slide a finger
past his lips, but
he didn’t play to her script
anymore

“Oh, darling,” she said, “I see
you have a lot to
learn. But I’m here
for you. There’s nothing you
need to worry about.”

He opened his mouth
and she sealed it again
with a finger.

“I think the Monsters
are ready. I’ll go
get them.”

Indeed
cold as the rest of
the freezer.
Standing before him, she opened
one can and
gulped it down
and then followed with
the other

He watched her
mute

watched as she then went into
the bathroom
and came out completely
naked, holding only a white
towel that she threw on
the bed
“Lie down and put that
over your face. I’ll piss
on you. Ever been waterboarded
before?”

He just looked at her
with the
saddest eyes

It made her
smile so bright
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "two Monsters"!

Check it out HERE!

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Thank you!

it’s no coin

coming out of the store
with a
sliced bread and a
small pack of salty crackers
he spots something on
the ground

round
and shiny
under the lamplight

He squats to pick it up
and all enthusiasm
leaves his being

It’s no coin

just bird droppings
in the form of one

He stands
turns around
walks back into the store

and comes out
a bit later
without the sliced bread
and the pack of crackers
but
with a six-pack of beer

We’d all
probably do precisely
the same
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "it's no coin"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

or is it just luck?

I don't think this is the
worst type but
it's certainly up there

the type that only contacts you
when they need something
from you

such as
to borrow money
or to sell you some
pyramid scheme shit

And it's funny to think that he
was by far the
richest guy in our group

at 23 he already had two apartments
One to live in
and one to rent out
and a pretty decent car

now all he's got is the car

He sleeps in it

and calls from time to time
and asks
"Hey, you ain't got no
girlfriend, right?"

It's not a way for him to flex
or anything

it's just his way of asking
whether or not you'd like to
spend some time
with his girlfriend

for a little
sum
of course

Yes, it has come to this

It's probably the destiny of
all hardcore
gamblers

have wealth
gamble
win or lose
gamble again until
you eventually lose
borrow money
lose the money
borrow again
win some
but lose some more
and so on

until you end up
asking random people if they'd
like to sleep with your
girlfriend for some money

But I guess the bigger mystery
here
is how in the
hell
is she okay with all that...

Seriously
do girls really have something
for gamblers
or is it just luck?
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "or is it just luck?"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

winter won’t leave already

No color, no sound,
just this grey sky pressing down
on a field that used to be alive

I hate how winter doesn't shout
It just takes and takes
until the world looks like this

My boots sink and the silence follows me,
thick and stubborn

quiet, empty,
and harder to care about

fellow lover of dark poetry

it was a very
nondescript truck

perfectly blended with
the environment

more building than
machine

it hadn't moved in
over eight years

the tires had melted into
the asphalt

and random weeds started
to grow around them
into the thin layer or dirt and
sand

I must've passed by it
thousands, tens of thousands
of times

paid it no mind

until it was
no longer there

Now where the hell was it?

Did the authorities
finally decide to tow it?

And if so
did they know
that truck was somebody's home?

I never learned his
name

but I heard he moved in
there after
the war.
State gave him enough money
to buy a small apartment or
something, but he chose that
old truck

some people are
bums by choice

Walking by
I'd see him in arid summer days
sitting behind the wheel
windows rolled down
a stumpy cigarette between his lips
a small chapbook in his hand

Never got to see the title
but I do recall
the image on the cover
't was a burning tree with one
shadowy, just vaguely human
silhouette hanging from it

He probably wasn't the kind of man
you'd want to
have in your circles
and perhaps his image dirtied
the overall aura of the neighborhood

I don't know
Don't care

All I do know now is that I'll never
get the chance to
walk up to his truck
and ask him what he's reading
and show him that I
too have chapbooks of my
own now

and I too
enjoy dark poetry

Well,
we both
probably enjoy
goodbyes
even more
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "fellow lover of dark poetry"!

Check it out HERE!

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Thank you!

fuel

he comes home in
the evening and
doesn’t
even greet his wife

she seems used to it

just like her husband’s used to
finding nothing to
eat anywhere in
the house

He’s tired and
feels like the whole world
had bullied him for
the past twelve hours

but complaining is
not on the menu

it never was

only a bottle of
wine

his wife brings it

opens it

pours
two glasses

and they start drinking

"Hello dear," he says after
the first sip
and leans in for a kiss

she reciprocates
and life
can finally begin

or continue
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "fuel"!

Check it out HERE!

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Thank you!

kid at the back of the class

he’s the one sitting
in the back of the class

wondering what it
would be like to
have the power to cause
someone to instantly
burst into flames

it makes him happy
for a while

It’s a way to channel the
inner rage

meanwhile his
grades are suffering
and the situation at home
isn’t better

but he’s past the point of
caring about any
of those

The meaning of life is to
exist as little
as possible in what the others
call reality
and get lost as much as
possible in one’s self

He’s good at it
so
for all we know
he’s living the life
of his dreams

Probably gonna start writing
in a few years

His kind usually does
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "kid at the back of the class"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

looking for reasons to doubt the voice

and this time
too
it comes out of nowhere

the voice says, "Now wait
a heartbeat.
What is this? Don't you
think you're a bit
too happy now?
The hell you think you're
doing!?
Trying to leave your
nature behind? Become a new
man?
Haha! Alright then. Good luck.
I mean, we both know it
won't work
just like it didn't work on your
previous attempts either."

I get out of bed

look around

Not for
the voice, of course

Only for
reasons to doubt it
for just one more day

One day at a time
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "looking for reasons to doubt the voice"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

online gambling

it's a trend that
never seems to want
to die

and just like most trends
I hate it

don't wanna be
part of it

and once more
I feel alone

nothing new
here

I'm not really bothered to
see that everyone and
their grandma
gambles on their smartphone,
I just wish they wouldn't be
so damn serious
about it

like it's a life or
death game

I could go on babbling
about the dangers
of technology and social media
and all that shit
but nah, I'm not trying to
sound more pretentious than
I already am

Short and to the
point
I fucking hate casinos

especially now that they're viral
in the online world

Now gambling is superior to
gaming

It's cool to be a gambler
to earn big cash
an' all that

the gamblers are the new
influencers
the super stars

It's the new East European
dream

To make it big at the slots
or the roulette
or blackjack
or whatever

Imagine walking down the
street
and you hear a bunch of
young adults
screaming at their phone screens
"Fuck that cherry! Had it
been a fuckin seven
I would've been a millionaire now.
Fuck!"

Ten or fifteen years
ago
it would not have been normal

now it
is

Tomorrow
we'll see what else comes up

But until then

I'll count myself
among the haters
and say it again

Fuck online gambling!

P.S
I work in the industry.
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "online gambling"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

he has to be stopped

the authorities keep
following him
around town

searching for him

They've been playing this
game for a time longer
than they care to remember

Thus
another urban legend
was born

The beggar poet

Not much difference between
a beggar and a poet
anyhow

but this one
angered the blue uniforms
of the town
by leaving his poems
behind

carved in the wood of
park benches
and brick walls
and in the hearts of
the week
the needy and the
indignant

He has to
be stopped
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "he has to be stopped"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

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