guess we’re both crazy after all

"It's not that it was the worst
but it was very bad," the old
man said.
"I wasn't hanging but the noose
was so thick around my frail neck.
I was nine. And the
forest was
And holding me, they made my
old man dig a deep hole.
He did as they said
to buy my freedom.
They untied me then and
put the rope around my old man's
arms and legs
and threw him in the hole
and covered him up with dirt.
They didn't make me watch.
But I did.
I wanted to photograph their
faces with my eyes
to burn their smirks under my eyelids.
Well, the saddest thing about it all is
that they died, all of them were
caught and condemned to death
before I was old enough or strong
enough to hunt down and
kill them myself.
The greatest regret of my life.
The world, you see, has no true justice
It never had.
You see, young man, that's why I
can never be a child of God.
He wants us all to forgive.
I can't.
Don't want.
Will not.
So instead of going to church
I pass out in bars like this one.
It's been my favorite lately
And you're my only friend, young man.
You're the only one weird enough to
listen to this old, demented fool's stories."

"I'll always listen,"
I said.
"Here, how about another drink?"

"Another drink, sure. Thanks.
But I'm afraid you won't be
listening to these stories for long.
I'm going away, young man."


"Well, to court first
and then
to prison."

"To prison at your age?
What did you do?"

The old man smiled a toothless
smile. "Old as I am, I used to have
front teeth, you know? Well, the
reason I no longer have them...
I bit a child's ear off.
It was his face.
It reminded me of them. Belonged to the
same race. So I figured... you know,
maybe he was one of their descendants.
It was the least I could do. All
I could do...
I told you I'm crazy. I told

"Yep, but I'm listening. I'm a


"No, but I try to be. Want to."

"Heh, guess we're both crazy
after all. Cheers."


always cold in the north

perhaps coming here
was a
mistake after all
It's not so much the weather as
it is the ever gray sky

It favors depression

Lack of sunlight
lack of vitamin D

He walked his dog around the
and counted zero smiles
out of sixty-three faces seen
and passed by

The block was no fun
so he followed the dog into the
back alleys. It
picked up on

and the smell grew potent enough
that even he
was beginning to feel it

Not pleasant

He expected a dumpster

But found two dumpsters
and a homeless
old man huddled between
Ragged to threads
holding a dead raccoon on his lap
eating from its flesh

and bloody

Aw shit, he whispered.
Maybe this place
ain't so bad
after all

Santa Flea

I was walking home from work
and it started to rain
big, fat drops

I had no umbrella

I ran for a couple of blocks and decided this
won't do
I found shelter
under the awning of some abandoned flower shop

There were bushes and greenery
and weeds all about it
and in the bushes there was a homeless guy
taking a crap

We made eye contact

He said hi

"Hello," I said

"Would you happen to have some
paper in there?" he asked
pointing at my backpack

I use my backpack to carry my food

He probably thought I was returning from
school or something
and would have some books
or notebooks or something like that

I maintained eye contact
took off my backpack
looked inside
There was a Tupperware casserole in which I had
fried chicken
The only paper I had was an A4 copy of
the contract that stated
I got a raise to my salary

I took it out
and held it to him

He grabbed it
"My god, thank you so much. You're
a good lad, really. Say, wouldn't you be interested
in a job by some chance? Part-time."

"Where?" I said

"Why, at this here flower shop," he said. "I plan to
reopen in a month's time. Got a new supplier an' all
that. I'll make it worth it."

I thought about it for the time
it took him to wipe his ass
with my contract

"Nah," I said. "I've already got a job. Sorry."

"Oh well, should you ever change your mind,
come here and ask for Santa Flea, okay? That'll be
me by the way."

"All right," I said

When I got home I asked my girlfriend
if she was ready to go out

"To celebrate my raise," I said

"Oh damn," she said. "How much?"

"Just a shitty sum," I said

Bogdan Dragos

Horror Sleaze Trash

Failing Forward

in high school
he repeatedly told her
that he was saving
himself for marriage

and eventually
she left him alone
but after graduation
she approached him
yet again

and this time he told her
that he was focusing on
his career as a writer

they both had their dreams
and they kept dreaming and
fighting to accomplish them,
insisting and getting up
from every defeat

failing forward
as some would say

It took decades but
eventually both of their
dreams came true

they were married
and he still hadn’t struck a deal
with any publisher but
made a relatively okay
income self-publishing

he wrote for a very narrow niche
very trashy erotic fiction
and his lovely wife helped him
with inspiration and research

“C’mon,” he urged her,
“moan a bit harder,
cry some too.”

she did as she was told
as he went around her
with the camera

it was hard work but
at least the German Shepard

View original post 5 more words

sometimes I think I’m just too good for you

He jumped off the building and
the metallic wings carried
him high
towards the clouds
where others like him swam in absolute

but then something
hit his head
he woke up

turned around in bed
and realized there
was blood trickling from
his eyebrow

The girl besides him was
holding a
stapler in her hands
and her eyes were watching
him with hate

"What the fuck!?" he shouted

"Keep it down," she said. "Ah, you've
got some nerve to
play victim here, boy."


"Oh, I tell you what. I was talking to
you and for a reply
you turned your back
to me and closed your eyes and
fell asleep. Like, what the fuck? So
I figured if you
can't keep your eyelids away
from your eyes I'll give
you a hand. Ah, sometimes I think I'm just
too good for you, boy."

He put his head on
the pillow and breathed heavily
"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

I never miss

"Relax," she told him. "I never

She found his vein from
the first try
and shot him
And the stuff was so good that
he died


She watched him from above
Watched the tears in
his eyes
and the froth bubbling around
his mouth

"I told you my daughter was
off limits, fucker. I told you. And I
told you I never miss, didn't I?"

open casket funeral

what would be the reason
to have an open casket funeral?

Why should the living
see the dead?

He addressed the questions to no one
in particular
but his dead wife answered from the
picture on the wall
"Don't you wanna see me, darling?"

"Not like that, I don't," he said. "That's
why I have your portrait. So I don't
have to look at your
dead body in the casket. But your
mom wouldn't understand..."

"Darling, I think you're the one
who doesn't
understand. And I think it's
time we talk about your therapist."

"What about my therapist?"

"You tell me. You tell me why did she have
to tell you that she's single now
and looking to settle. I thought she
was supposed to
help you cope with the premature death
of your wife, not tell you her

"Dear, please..."

"And one more thing. I don't like
the medicine she
prescribed you. Have you even read the
label? That shit's dangerous, you

He stormed out of
the room and
went straight to the morgue
and told the morticians to seal his
dead wife's lips with glue or

They looked at him like he
was crazy

"What is it?" he asked

"Well, sir, to glue the dead's lips
for the open casket ceremony is
just... standard procedure. Else the mouth
opens and it's not a pretty sight. Did
you work with the dead or something?"

He thought a bit
"Yeah," he said. "Something... something
like that."

Bogdan Dragos

Horror Sleaze Trash

few posessions and no doubts

he owned one pair of shoes
four pairs of socks
one pair of pants
a tank top
two t-shirts and
a sweatshirt

he’d lost the cap
in his last dice game.

“well, hell, doesn’t matter,
broke the spell,” he chanted,
somehow, someway
luck is gonna come my way
and why not here, now, today?”

the dreams haven’t left
the dreams were still in him,
in his soul
ready to explode

47 manuscripts:
14 novels, 7 novellas,
and 26 short stories
he carried in his pack
along with his socks
his other t-shirt
a knife
six pens he stole
from the library
where he wrote
a candy bar
and an old dull razor

he wasn’t so young anymore
the beard and gray hairs
made him look much older
surely the hunger had
affected that as well

but it didn’t matter
he was going to make it
one day, some day

somehow, someway

View original post 5 more words

13 POEMS in Terror House Magazine

rainy season damage

one unlucky boxer

in a very open marriage

guilt is one heavy anvil

the world is full of fetishists

honestly, I had to look online for the meaning of the term

broken toy

scratch on the inside

dark corners of the dating scene

only empty wine bottles

better than any show on TV

sometimes you don’t have to lead the insane to happiness, but to follow

it’s okay, his father’s a writer

Bogdan Dragos

Horror Sleaze Trash

how can you be such a monster?

he spent four weeks
away from his family
in a rented apartment
somewhere on
the outskirts
of town

he told them that
he needed this
he was a writer
needed to focus on his work
conducting his research

his little girl would call
from time to time
asking daddy to hold his
phone against his forehead
while she made a kissing sound
on the other line

very wholesome
except he lied about
holding the phone
against his forehead

“How can you be
such a monster?”
asked the naked prostitute
sitting on the edge of his bed

“Shut up,” he said
tossed his phone on the desk
and unbuckled

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