Tag: dark

too good at picking opponents

bogdan dragos 
we weren't speeding or
anything

there was four
of us in the car

rainy night

and we almost bumped into
him at the intersection

a raggedy
bloody mess
he was

"The hell happened this
time?" we asked
but we knew it had to be
another street brawl

He was known around
town for those

for always starting
shit and
then losing horribly

There's no honor in
winning
he used to say.
If you win
it just shows you picked on someone
weaker than you

Wise words
of a drunk man

"So who was it this time?"
we asked

and he said, "Some fucker from
the bar."

"No shit. And why though?"

"I heard him talking. Said that
his wife ran away
from home and
left him with the kid. Some
four year old.
So I asked, where the kid at
then, an' he looks at me with the
side eye and says
the kid's at home.
An' I asked how the hell he
leaves a four year old alone
at night like that,
and then he tells me to mind my own
business.
He probably locked the kid in
the basement so he could
come out and drink and get shitfaced.
I know motherfuckers who
do that.
I used to be one of 'em.
So... I hated myself through him
and him through me. And
there was but one quarter of
a step from there to a fight.
We held it outside
an' I got my ass kicked. Meaning I
chose my opponent wisely.
I always do."

"The guy left his kid locked
in the basement
so he could come to the bar
and drink?" we asked

He seemed to think deeply
about it.
Wiped some blood from his
face in the meanwhile
"Yeah!" he finally burst. "The asshole!
Hey, I know, let's drop
by his place and give him a
lesson. Let's make the
night better for
that poor kid."

"Right," we said. "An' where would
that be?
Where's he live?"

"Oh fuck. I should've
asked him before
swinging at him, no?"

"You should've done many
things, old man.
But for now, why don't you go
home?"

He shrugged. "Ain't got any. I mean,
not anymore I don't."

We put together some
money and
sent him to the nearest
bar. Enough to
get him through the night

The next day there
was news of a homeless man
dying in the streets

We're still trying to figure out
if it was him or not

I'm afraid he was
a bit too good
at picking opponents
Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "too good at picking opponents"!

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!

5

The muse possesses me like a demoness

bogdan dragos 
he was one of those writers whose
bio said something like
'It is not my choice. The muse possesses me
like a demoness and I write
because not to do so would mean to have
my soul tortured by a thousand
bites and scratches
of her fiery fangs and gelid claws.
The only way to delay her devouring my soul
is to put the next word down. And I
strive to do just that. My destiny is therefore
set in stone. I am a writer.'

he was also an amateur photographer
and filmmaker
Currently exploring the niche of
torture porn

He was 34
and still lived with his parents
who apparently didn't understand
his artistic side
and were constantly trying to crush his
dreams into oblivion
with ridiculous, outworldly demands
like
'When will you get a real job and move out?'

He pitied them
Pitied the blindness of their souls
the deafness to real art
and the artistic nature that oozed from his
very being

It was like they
had Jesus Christ in the flesh in their
house but would not
understand or care to acknowledge it

Poor souls

Anyway
his latest project got him in a bit of trouble
with the law

Something to do with
a seventeen-year-old staring in one of his
experimental movies

and now he knew he had it all
figured out
Just like the Messiah,
he had to die, had to suffer to no end
so that the blind herds could
come to know his truth and understand his
art

He denied his parents
when they tried to hire him a lawyer

They did not
insist
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "The muse possesses me like a demoness"!

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!

3

think about his future

bogdan dragos 
They had the poor girl lie
on the cold tile floor
and then they all pissed on her
and you could hear them tell her to open her
mouth wide and stick her tongue
out
It was one of the
poorest videos on the site
but the women watching it 
recognized the girl
She went
to the same high school as them 
back in the day

So
trashy porn is what she turned to

Not exceptionally unusual, but
one of the kids
running in the park before them was her child
Just eight or nine

"You know," said one of them. "Like it or not
it's just a matter
of time until our sons catch wind of
this and then..."

"Oh my..."

"Goodness!"

"The sins of the parents are visited upon
the children. It's not fair. Imagine
the life her poor kid's gonna
have."

"Yeah, our own kids might
very well be the bullies, we'll never know. Like I said,
it's a matter of time..."

"Well, goodness, what can we do
about it?"

"Flag the video?"

"You know it won't work..."

"Oh, I got an idea. What if... you know, what if
we all uploaded sexy vids of us. Um, not
necessarily as trashy as this one
but just pornographic enough. The boys
won't be able
to gang up and bully one if all their mothers
did it... Right? C'mon, let's do it
for that poor kid. Think about his future..."

The other mothers
looked at her

and they kept looking

mute

until one of them pulled out her
smartphone

3

facing the dark corner

the old lady didn’t mind being
called crazy

or being laughed at for
spending her days
alone
in her small cottage
facing the dark corner
of the room and
talking to
her dead daughter

encouraging her to eat up
and grow up
and complimenting her on the good
looks she’d gained

“Oh, I bet the boys are all dropping
dead in your wake, hehe. Look
at those legs. So slim and long and
deadly. You’re a beauty
among beauties, my dear. Here, have another
one. Eat up to grow up. You’re gonna
have hundreds of strong, beautiful
children, hehe.”

The neighbors and the world
could keep calling her crazy, she
knew she was just very happy

She grabbed another grasshopper from
a jar and ripped its hind legs
and placed it
on the spider’s web

“Here’s another one, dear. Eat up
and grow up, hehe.”
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇
Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK

15

a king in his castle

at 08:22 he awakens and pushes
away the tarp he uses as blanket

he’s already dressed up
and wears shoes

looks around at the blackening
dampness of the walls

stretches a bit

takes off his coat and
the blouse
and the shirt
and the tank-top

grabs a tissue
wets it with rubbing alcohol
and uses it to wash his
armpits. He knows it’s good for killing
the bad smelling bacteria

He knows much about how the world works
for he’d been to school and even
one year of collage in his youth

When his armpits dry
he dresses up
and gets out and checks under the
big flower pots that stand before the
entry to the building

He is wise to keep his savings there
Otherwise the others would’ve
smelled it on him and would’ve
robbed him a long time ago
He counts the money
and feels satisfied with the sum

At 09:30 he eats a warm meal at the
local soup kitchen
and turns down
four bums who ask to borrow money

At 10:10 he walks up to the
big casino and
enters

Now his imagination kicks in

Behind the entry
he is greeted with luxury, he walks
on the red carpet
and sees the bright lights
and the game attendants who greet him
like a king

He is the king in his vision
and he had returned to his castle

He smiles
and walks around leisurely

A man needs to have but a clear
vision of a bright future
to live a happy present

He finds a seat
in front of a slot machine

puts the money into
the bill acceptor
and starts playing

He is one of the happiest
customers the casino
ever had
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇
Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK
10

a dead body in the room

there was a dead body in the room

Had to be

Else where did the smell
come from?

Every time he’d turn around to catch
a ghost or a zombie
from the corner of his eyes the smell
would slap him

A smell of death

He decided he’d look around for the
dead body
but later

He didn’t have the energy now
or the disposition
or anything

He only wanted to sleep
some more
He just woke up and needed a good
nap to recover

Perhaps there were times when it
didn’t make sense
but now, today, nothing made more
sense that this

All you need is a healthy
dose of chronic depression and it makes
sense

Just like not cleaning the room
and not taking a shower
in a time longer than memory can be
bothered to remember

So he paced back to the bed
and climbed in
and dragged the blanket, heavy with
caked dirt, on his body
and closed his eyes

He fell asleep in spite of
the smell of death
coming closer still

The dreams were always a little bit better
in the nap taken after
waking up from
the night’s sleep

One time he even dreamed he
was a published author. Not a great or
even a good one, but published
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇
Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK
13

vomiting snake

in nights like this he would just drink
 in the dark
 and smoke
 and lie on his side and
 hallucinate
 about a snake vomiting vibrating colors
 on a white wall
  
 Maybe the snake had eaten paint
  
 But it was a small snake
 no bigger than a worm
 and the amount of dancing colors it vomited
 all over was astounding
  
 Enough to paint the whole house
  
 But the colors would never
 stay on the things they fell upon
 The colors would
 bounce around and dance and vibrate
 mingle with each other and
 part and mix again
  
 and the small snake would vomit some more
 and it would make a sound
 like babies crying
  
 All he wanted in times like these
 was to crawl over to the poor snake
 and comfort it in some way
 pat its head, place it in his armpit
 to get warm, feed it something, rub its
 belly up and down and around
  
 But the little snake
 wouldn't come his way
  
 Not even after he split the inside of
 his forearm from
 wrist to elbow to invite it
 into his flesh
  
 "Fine then," he said. "Stand there
 and vomit until you
 die. We'll still be together one day
 whether you like it or not…" 
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇
Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK
6

no country for romantic men

and the few survivors who couldn’t
fight 
were lined up
along with the civilians
and shot
or killed in ways to entertain the soldiers
And dogs were trained to
tear them to shreds 
and the ground became black with
their soaked blood
and over the next few days a carpet of
butterflies gathered on top of it

“It’s beautiful,” he said

She didn’t pay attention. Was too busy
removing golden teeth
from a severed head 
she held in her lap. “Dammit, whoever made these
implants did too good a job. I’ve
to take ‘em with gums, alright. Look, my
knife keeps slipping.” 

“Stab his eyes please,” he said

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s looking at us. I can’t 
stand it.”

“Jeez, you’re such a pussy.” She quickly
stabbed the blade into
the head’s eyes one after the other. “Better?” 

“Whatever,” he said. “Just hurry up 
and pull those teeth.” 

“I’m trying. If I had better tools though…”

He was silent for 
a long time and then
he cleared his throat and said, “Hey, so… now that this
shitty war is over… like, what are you
gonna do with your life?” 

“I don’t know,” she said. “Get myself a few
gold teeth as extra spoils and
go back home. My mom wants
me to marry this
fat guy from the neighboring village. I probably
will then I’ll shit him out a few
kids and… well, grow old and die, I guess.” 

“What? Is that it? That’s all?”

She looked at him with
a grin. “Hey, don’t worry, you’re still
getting some. Just wait until
tonight, okay?” 

“Dammit, that’s not what the heck
I meant. I meant… you know, there’s gotta be
more to life than just… just 
getting married, making kids, and dying.” 

“Really? Well, what are you
gonna do then?”

“I’m… gonna write. About it all. The war
and… everything.” 

“Write? Like, a book? A story?” 

“Yeah. It’s been my dream
since before the war started. Now I’ve the
experience to write about.”

“Bullshit experience,” she said. “Who in the fuck
d’you think will wanna read that? 
What’s the story gonna say? How you 
killed the enemy? Poisoned their wells? Raped
their women and enslaved their children? 
Stuck twigs down the dick holes of
prisoners and broke them inside for fun?”

“Hey, I never did any of that.” 

“But you were there when the
others did it. And did nothing to stop them.
It counts as--”

“Fuck! Okay, you’re right. Writing a book
about this would be
a terrible idea. Thanks.”

“Shit, look, I got one. This is solid gold. 
Two more to go.” 

He sighed. “Listen…”

“Yeah?”

“About that marriage of yours…”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Well, let’s just say… I mean, you know…”

“Fuckin’ spit it out already!”

“Don’t marry that fat guy from
the neighboring village! Fuck, I said it.”

“Oh? And marry you instead?” 

“Well…”

“Y’know, the fat guy from the neighboring village
is the son of a fairly rich butcher. Family
business. And you… Your father’s the
drunk who hung himself to avoid paying 
back his debts. You see the conflict here, I hope.” 

“So all you care about is money?”

“Why wouldn’t I care about money? I want to
live good, thank you very much. This is 
the real world, not some
romantic story. Wake up. I gotta make the
rational decision.” 

“I thought we had… something.” 

“Yeah, we fucked a few times cuz’ there
was nothing better to do. And we’ll
fuck again tonight, sure. But 
that don’t mean we’re lovers now. Look, you’re
a nice guy. I’m sure you’ll find
love back at home. You don’t need a bitch
like me. I mean, if you think I’m not
gonna screw other guys
behind my husband’s back, you’re seriously trippin, boy. 
So think about it, that could’ve been you. Would
you want that?”

“No, I suppose not.” 

“Good. Well then, let’s get these teeth
and go have some ale. It’s on me.”

She stood and with her hand
soiled with blood
she reached out and pinched his cheek
and stretched it to force 
a smile on his face. “C’mon, cheer up, damn you!
We still have a life ahead of us. Let’s
fuckin’ live it.” 

“Yeah… let’s.” 
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇
Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK
3

broken toy

it was dark and
hot
and every breath entered
with salty sweat
inside the nose

the mouth was
gagged and the whole head
covered by a
black trash bag
with two very small holes,
unaligned with her
nostrils

Her skin was itchy all
over
but there was no scratching
with hands and feet
bound to the chair

She didn’t realize that she
was in hyperventilation
and it was making things
worse

After the four hours
it took him to come back to
the basement
he found the greatest
disappointment of his life

He found her dead

There’s no feeling like
paying good money
for a toy
only to bring it home
and find that it’s broken
before you get to
play with it

He broke down and cried
for a whole hour
as he sat on her dead lap
and caressed her hair
and kissed her gagged
mouth and sucked the
snot from her nose

She was beautiful
too

Weeks later he was unable to
forget her
He carried her eyeball inside
his mouth wherever he
went
( ＾◡＾)っ ♡ MY SOCIALS!
15

please, please, please by Bogdan Dragos

Visit Gobblers/Masticadores and find more writings you can enjoy! Thanks! 
(๑╹ڡ╹)╭ ～ ♡

j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

she'd never seen a room so barren before Only white walls, a brown door and large windows with white frames Yet someone was living in it Someone who wanted it to be this way Her younger brother sat, as always, in the wheelchair by the window “Uh, forgive me if I'm being a nag,” she said, “but I gotta ask again. Are you absolutely sure you don't want anything in this room? Not even... I don't know, a bed maybe?” He wouldn't face her. Only the large white framed window “I don't sleep in a bed,” he replied. Why do you even ask?” “Ah, s-sorry. I just... I wanted you to feel like home in here, you know?” “Oh, dear sister, but I do feel like home. After all, isn't this what home felt like all along as we grew up?” She lowered her gaze to the gray floor as…

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11

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