writing for the rest of his life

he declared himself insane
before the world

and the world did worse
than not to
believe or ridicule him

The world
ignored him

He was an old writer
with a body
rotting from the inside
A cancer in his lungs, right
around the heart

Effort made him faint
Oftentimes the effort of sitting
on the toilet and pushing

But when he wasn't on the
toilet he
was at his desk

writing

And smoking. There was
a candle on the corner of his desk
always burning

The rule was that for every
seven minutes spent
not writing he'd hold his hand
above the flame for
seven seconds

His hands looked like decomposing
carcasses of mole-rats

but they could
still hold
the pen

He would go on writing
for the rest of
his life

all seven
hours of it
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Crash

Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "Crash"!
https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

the veins by Bogdan Dragos (short story)

Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my short story, "the veins"!
https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

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What else could they possibly take away?

Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "What else could they possibly take away?"!
https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

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tarot reading

She was sucking
on a red lollipop
quite loudly
and would constantly
take it out of her mouth
to stir her whiskey with it

She wore round sunglasses
a crimson bandanna
her hair in thin dreads
and all her shirts
were sleeveless

She took the lollipop out
one more time and
pointed it at him
across the table

“You want some?”
she asked

“Um, no thanks. I, uh,
stay away from sweets.”

She dipped the lollipop
back into the glass
and stirred a bit
then put it back
in her mouth

“Good for you.
I’m not too fond
of these either.
Just use ’em to help me
break the smoking habit.
It’s been working lately.”

She picked up the glass and took a sip
of the lollipop-flavored whiskey

“Anyway, like I said,
I brought you to my place
to read your tarot cards.”

She pulled the deck out
from under the table
and began shuffling
it intently

“If all’s good,
there’ll be a second date
and perhaps even more.
It all depends on you.”

Just then,
her dog barged into the room,
a fat pit bull wagging its stubby tail
and sniffing around the guest

It then ambled to her side
and she took the lollipop
and placed it between
the dog’s jaws

She shuffled some more
very focused on what
she was doing
and when all was ready
she took the lollipop
from the dog’s mouth
and resumed sucking on it
with loud slurping sounds

“So, you ready?”
she asked

He watched her,
gulped, and
scratched his head

“Um… yeah, totally.
This is, uh… like
poker, right?”
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O țestoasă născută pe partea greșită a carapacei (a turtle born on the wrong side of its shell)

Many thanks to MASTICADORES ROMANIA for publishing this one! 
Check out the English version HERE!

Thank you!

Good boy, Kyu (short story)

Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my short story, "Good boy, Kyu"!

Thank you!

Working on a Sunday?

Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "Working on a Sunday?"!

Thank you!

“Can’t Sleep While Someone is in My Room” – Published in Spillwords!

Many thanks to Spillwords for featuring my poem, "Can’t Sleep While Someone is in My Room"!

Thank you!

rice and walnuts

“I fucking hate rice,” she
told me. “And I’m beginning
to kinda
hate you for loving it.”

“Shit,” I said, “what
did rice ever
do to you?”

She opened her purse
took out the pack of smokes
and fished one out
with her lips. “Fuck,” she said,
looking for the lighter.
“I think I still
have the pits in my knees…”

“What?”

She shrugged. “I was a little girl,
alright, and whenever I
did something that my dear grandma
considered naughty she’d
pour raw rice in a corner
of the room and make me kneel
on it and just stand like that for…
I don’t know, hours.”

“Really?”

“Really!” She blew the smoke
in my face. “To this day,
bitch still wonders
how I could steal her savings
from the pension. I didn’t
even need the money. I just hated
her guts is all. And now
I hate rice. And you.”

“Well,” I said. “I never stole
from my grandma. And to
this day I don’t hate walnuts.”

“What?”

“Yeah, that was my version
of the punishment. I knelt on
shells of walnuts just
like you with the rice. And I
don’t hate ’em.”

She blew more
smoke in
my face

Thank you!

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