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English translation HERE!
3 POEMS (“he’s the writer!”, “magic fish tank”, and “no such thing as something for nothing”) – published in the first issue of TOME Literary
Starting the new year with a dream come true ☆ﾟ°.* ᕕ( ⌐■_■ )ᕗ TOME Literary has agreed to feature three of my poems in their 1st issue, titled "Consumption". Check it out HERE! for free 🙂 POEMS: he's the writer! magic fish tank no such thing as something for nothing Also, get in touch via INSTAGRAM. Thanks! 🙂
Bad Blood by Bogdan Dragos
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Nine PM caught them sitting on
the broken bench by
the river banks
She removes her jacket and
stretches her
hands. “See?” she says, “I told you I’m
bad blood.”
He stares at her,
mute and dumb and
utterly incapable to find himself
in her dark eyes “Huh?”
“The mosquitoes,” she says. “They
don’t want to
suck my blood. See? Not one of
‘em lands on me.” Lightly, she hammers a
fist against her chest. “This blood
is poisoned, I tell you. I’ve been
drinking since
my age was in the single digits. Helped
myself to mother’s stash
countless times. Now you can’t tell
my chest apart from a boy’s and, if I
remember right, I was about sixteen
by the time I had
my first period. Pretty sure I
can’t have children either. Though
I never really tested this.”
He hesitates. “But… your face is like
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all part of a grand plan
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By bogdan Dragos
"You are going to die," she told him He was silent for a moment and then said, "I know." "I mean very soon," she added. "The Holy Mother Spirit Guardian told me. She said, one of the men you're sleeping with, the one you met at the bar and watched him drink half a whiskey bottle by himself, is going to die a very premature death." "Thank God," he said at the moment there were better things to do than ask him to clarify but his words became clear to her a few days later when she drove to the construction site he worked at to pick him up his coworkers said that he's no longer among them "Poor bastard locked himself in one of the finished rooms on the ground floor," they said. "He often did that. Locked himself in the bathroom too, sometimes for hours…
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Bogdan Dragoș – Interviu
( ＾◡＾)っ English version HERE!
"Erau vremuri în care ajungeam acasă, îmi aruncam ghiozdanul într-un colț al camerei, ... Eram fericit în acele vremuri. Azi însă, m-am apucat de scris" Azi m-am apucat de scris
- Ai vreo carte preferată. Dacă da, care?
A: Blood Meridian (Meridianul Sângelui) de Cormac McCarthy. Nu spun că-i cea mai bună carte scrisă vreodată, dar este cu siguranță una care m-a influențat foarte mult. Și asta pentru că a apărut în viața mea într-o vreme în care tot ce știam despre ficțiune erau conceptele din basmele copilăriei în care culorile morale ale personajelor sunt perfect alb-negru. Cei buni erau perfect buni, iar cei răi erau perfect răi. Așa că vă dați seama cum mi-a putut schimba Meridianul Sângelui viziunea despre ficțiune.
2. Ai vreun scriitor preferat? Dacă da, care ar fi acela?
A: Păi, luând în considerare răspunsul meu la întrebarea precedentă, ar trebui să spun acum Cormac McCarthy. În…
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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.
de Bogdan Dragoș
Erau vremuri în care ajungeam acasă, îmi aruncam ghiozdanul într-un colț al camerei, îmi dădeam jos papucii, haina, intram în cameră, îmi dădeam jos pantalonii, tricoul, trăgeam pe mine ceva pantaloni din ăia largi, alt tricou, porneam calculatorul, desfăceam o pungă de cipsuri, beam ce puteam și pierdeam vremea. Eram fericit în acele vremuri. Azi însă, m-am apucat de scris.
Volume publicate:
Pisica din papuc
(っ◕‿◕)っ English version HERE
de Bogdan Dragoș
Camera era rece și flori gri de mucegai înfloreau pe pereți. Și-a dat jos papucii și aceștia fiind cele mai calde lucruri din cameră puiul de pisică se adăposti într-unul din ei. El stătu pe o saltea în colț și mângâie pisica din papuc. Deodată, zâmbi și zise, – Eh, măcar n-am datorii. Până și Dumnezeu a fost de acord cu el. I-a făcut cu ochiul prin gaura din tavan.
Volume publicate:
Poem postat inițial pe https://gobblersmasticadores.wordpress.com/
tarot reading by Bogdan Dragos
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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…
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Major Decisions by Bogdan Dragos
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you know you’re depressed when
the window in your room
looks better with the
blinds on
than with a clear view of the outside
“But I’m all right,” he said
to himself
Beyond the thin wall
he heard wheezing breath and grunts
and moans. His roommate
was living the college life, alright.
Kid kept saying it is game that gets
you girls and not money or looks. Sure, but
it’s easy to say that
when your dad just
casually drops the keys to a brand new BMW
when he visits.
Meanwhile he’s been bartending for
the last eight years, since he turned twenty. Maybe
dropping out of college wasn’t
the greatest of ideas. Neither
was breaking up
with the only girl who cared for him. He
knew she cared for him because
she wouldn’t stop nagging him
to go back to college. Because
she wanted a life
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this is not one of them
the old boy wakes up three hours ahead of the world that lives in concrete buildings and one hour ahead of the competition and emerges from his damp tent looks around the park looks at the sky Overcast He stretches a bit and scratches his head and walks over to the fountain and has a drink collects some mint leaves chews on them spits and rinses his mouth The work clothes are already on him Boots two pairs of socks cotton and wool faded jeans a shirt a sweater and coat over them mittens and a cap that covers his ears as well It's now time to set about collecting tin cans around the neighborhood to make just enough for a meal and a half and maybe a few cigarettes sold individually It's been enough years for all this to become routine When you don't know of any better you don't expect any better And now he only did this to have just enough energy and life force to visit the public library and read heart warming poems
Daydreaming as a profession 