Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "Leave them alone and enjoy your own solitude"!
Thank you!
Leave them alone and enjoy your own solitude
Adrenaline job
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my short story, "Adrenaline job"!
Thank you!
A life ain’t saved just because it’s born
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my short story, "A life ain’t saved just because it’s born"!
Thank you!
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?”
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!
bit by bit, little by little
there were times when she bit and
chewed the inside
of her elbow
to spit the bits of flesh
and the blood
on her grandma
but those times were over
almost forgotten
along with the teachings that
her blood is poisoned
because she was conceived with the
wrong woman, meaning
not the one grandmother intended for
her father
But today all those
people were dead. Only father was
alive
He was all right. A hard working
man, busy with life
busy enough not to notice
that his daughter
is constantly sprinkling ashes in
his food and coffee
He’d almost consumed the
contents of
his mother’s urn
there’s just
a bit left
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Thank you!
to choose the bottle
there are many reasons a woman
can say her final
goodbye to you
and somehow they
all feel
different
He supposed the worst of all
had to be when
her final goodbye is
influenced by another man
made sense
but that wasn't his case
Also he was too drunk
to think
straight now. And in too much
pain
“It's the final goodbye,” she had
said. “You chose the bottle
over me, now live
with the bottle. Goodbye.”
Goddammit, this
really hurt
His dick was only getting harder
and more blue
stuck in the mouth
of the bottle
Yet still, through all the
pain and the
dizziness he reached for the
phone and called her.
He said, “Hey, I just want you
to know that… It was
you I had in mind when I did it.
I did it while thinking
of you, love.”
She hung up
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Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK
Vina-i o nicovală grea
English translation HERE!
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Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK
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
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Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK
Daydreaming as a profession 