Bogdan Dragos

Horror Sleaze Trash's avatarHorror Sleaze Trash

cartoonist

Dad was fat all his life
Obese
He couldn’t do a lot of things.
Walk without special help
Bathe
Climb stairs
Sit in a normal chair
Drive a normal car
Sleep in a normal bed
And say “I love you, son.”

To draw those words out
of his dad he became a cartoonist,
but that also failed.

And now that his father
was dead,
collapsed face down
on the kitchen floor,
blood seeping out of a head wound,
he struggled to turn him over
on his back
and dipped his finger in the blood
and drew a speech bubble
next to his father’s head
and wrote in it the famous words.

Finally.
“I love you too, dad.”

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Ol’ Bloody Brush

the old man stank
but he
stank more
of booze and cheap
tobacco than
filth

his mouth missed
a lot of
teeth
and his eyes
would never
look
in the same
direction at once

but worst of
all were his hands
Now those were
really messed up

He claimed he had
paint tanks
under his nails
and he wasn’t lying

he was mad
but not a liar

He could paint
wherever he was
on any surface

And he did

pressing the stump
of his fingers
against walls and
furniture
triggered immediate
bleeding

and then he
would trace on and
draw something
Usually a penis or
some hairy cunt or
some silhouettes
fucking or
something like that

Then he’d step back
admire his creation
and laugh
and suck at his
bloody fingers

Ol’ Bloody Brush
was a celebrity
around the
block
He never had
to buy a
drink for
himself
There was always
someone to treat him,
an admirer
a fan, a disciple

Yeah, at 66
Ol’ Bloody Brush
was living the life
unlike other wannabe
artists who devoted
their existence to
the craft and got
nowhere

These guys,
they had the talent
and the drive

but Ol’ Bloody Brush,
he had the madness

and the world
was coming to learn
the difference 

smart dead man

In the afterlife the creatures that
gathered around him
asked, “Why did you do it? Why
did you jump in
front of that train?”

He shrugged. “Life wasn’t
worth living anymore. And I wanted
revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“Yes, revenge.”

“On whom?”

“On the man driving the train, obviously.
My wife was divorcing
me, a lawyer, to be with a
locomotive engineer. Can you believe that?
So I had to do
something about it. I jumped in
front of his train
and now he’s got PTSD, depression,
he’s about to lose his job,
my wife has second thoughts
about being with him. His life’s nasty, alright.”

“Woah... you’re a smart man.”

another bulimic princess

mashed potatoes
poached eggs
beans
and some homemade garlic sauce
but no meat for the
princess's sensitive stomach

"I'm full," she said

"No, you are not," said mother. "Eat up. Finish
everything from your plate
and trust me, it's been calculated. It's
the right amount. Now eat up."

Father agreed. Being a step-father he
didn't have much of a say in this
matter or any other

It took the princess another twenty
minutes to finish the
food from her plate
and then stood
and went to the bathroom but
it wouldn't be that simple. Mother had to go in
with her

And she did
and both of them came out and
the princess went to her
room
and mother started cleaning the table
always just one step away from
bursting into tears
which gave her new husband some work
with emotional support and all

A princess doesn't steal
but this was a desperate princess
she locked the door to her room
and pulled out from under her
shirt the
roll of plastic bags
took one
opened it
sat on the bed leaning forward
elbows on knees
face before the bag

and she didn't even have to
put the fingers in her mouth
the vomit just came
every bit of mashed potatoes
and poached eggs and every pea
and the homemade garlic sauce

She tied the bag
it felt very warm in her hands
placed it under her bed
got her phone and sent a text

in twenty-something minutes
he was under her window
and she threw him the bag of vomit
and he walked away with it
carried it to a trash bin far from her home

He was such a sweet guy for
doing all this for her
He was her prince
Except he still kept his frog form
even after all the kisses and blowjobs
after school

but well,
when you're desperate...

‘Knight Piece’ & ‘Possessed’: Two Poems by Dragos Bogdan

https://www.vampcatmag.com/post/two-poems-dragos-bogdan

unlovable trash

well
there's plenty of cutesy names to
call one's children
but his was 'unlovable trash'
He remembered it from the time he was in the crib
They held him there
for longer than most parents
held their kids in cribs. Though only dad
called him so
because he constantly claimed he wasn't his

unlovable trash

he had the wrong skin tone
was too pale
with curly orange hair
and freckles

but mom always pretended she didn't
hear
the words
unlovable trash
she would act as if they were never uttered

and growing up
he thought
unlovable trash was a good thing
thought it was how you show love to your loved
ones

"Mom, you’re unlovable trash."

she was so happy to hear it
she burst into tears and went into the
kitchen and uncorked a bottle of wine
and drank it all by herself. What an
unlovable trash she was

Unfortunately
by the time he could pronounce the lovely
words
father was no longer in his life
but father too
was an unlovable trash

INOCENT with a single ‘N’

Some daughters love their fathers
a bit too much
and their mothers not enough

This father was a cop,
the type that deals with the nasty cases
and he often came home drunk.
Alcohol did help, he said
and drank some more on the couch
and sometimes drank until he passed out

she was thirteen, his daughter
and would constantly nag
him with questions
about work. He didn't wanna talk about work,
about the gruesome details of
it and all that, but edgy teenagers will be
edgy teenagers
She insisted
and he kept drinking and eventually
passed out on his side

She was excited
took his gun from the holster
and started studying it with passion
turning it on all sides, smelling it,
holding it close
to the face
and

BANG!

the bullet got her lower jaw
it was a bloody mess
and she was in pain and gagging on blood
and shards of bone and teeth
But...

to call for help right now
would be wrong.
The whole world would accuse daddy
and he had no fault. And mommy would
reopen the case and
have no problem gaining custody of her
Fuck! This was bad!
This was so bad!

And it was getting worse,
she felt it. Felt close to fainting. Father was still
on the couch. Passed out drunk.

She had to take matters into
her own hands. Shambled
into the kitchen
and grabbed the cutting board from
the table
and dipped a finger in her bloody mouth
and wrote with it on the cutting board

MY FAULT
DADDY INOCENT
(with a single 'N')

She went outside holding the cutting board
and knocked on
the neighbor's door.

The knife listens

but that handle was made for his hand
hand - handle
handle - hand

the fingers would close
around it to never let go
It had to have flesh around it
at all times
But the blade...
the blade was still naked. He couldn't leave
the blade naked
It wasn't fair

"So that's why you stabbed your
mommy then?" the psychiatrist asked him.

"Yes," he said.

"The knife is more important
to you than mommy?"

"The knife listens. Mommy doesn't." 

Bogdan Dragos

Horror Sleaze Trash's avatarHorror Sleaze Trash

the thing before the thing before the thing

because it’s nice to be young
because it’s nice to be in your
early to mid twenties
and it’s nice to do the thing
after you’ve done the thing

the thing that comes after you’ve
done the
thing is always
the same
but the thing that leads to the thing is
often different

this night it was white powder
they shared it neatly
between each other
and then climbed into bed

“Christ,” he said. “I still can’t believe you
sucked dick for this shit. And
a carload of it. What was it, like
four, five guys?”

“Oh, shut your hole, you pauper-ass.
If you had a job like a decent motherfucker
I wouldn’t have to do that shit, you know?”

“Shit, baby, don’t make this
trip worse than it is.”

“You started it.”

“Whatever, let’s just get to the next thing
already.”

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Mr. Tap-Tap

When you see someone for long
enough you
get used to them
and then you start noticing
patterns in their behavior

he was their
teacher in
creative writing

weird guy in his late thirties
going bald
bespectacled
pedo mustache
scrawny body
always wearing dark suits, a bit oversized

He sat at his desk and watched the
students
and the students
watched him

Why does he always do that?
they eventually asked.
Why does he always tap his foot when
talking to some girl
but never when he talks to boys?

He would appoint a female student to present her
homework or some
project
or something
and stand her up
and while she spoke he would stare at her
and tap his foot
and the tapping would begin light
and would grow in intensity

strange guy

tap-tap-tap
ta-rap-tap-tap
went his foot
as the girls talked

"I heard he's divorced," said one of the students.

"Yep," said another. "He is. Has a kid as well."

"Damn."

"I heard he's also got a brother in prison
for rape or some shit."

and a few weeks later
they were talking about books
related to prison life
and someone said, "You know how
prisoners jack off in full view of guards and
the female prison nurses without getting caught?"

nobody asked how but he went to
say it anyway and he said "They wrap a
string around their penis
and tie the other end to the big
toe of one foot.
All beneath the pants. Nothing shown.
And when the female is close
they stare
and move that foot and the string does
the job..."

tap-tap-tap
ta-rap-tap-tap

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