DR Bogdan


and then, maybe, write about it

  • an old instrument with rusty strings

    25 January 2021 by

    he sits alone in the

    on a wooden chair

    The walls surrounding him
    have no
    mirrors and
    the windows are covered
    by the thickest blinds

    He doesn’t want to see his
    old age

    and the decay that already
    started consuming
    his body

    In his mind he’s still
    young, still
    in his early twenties

    still dreaming

    He’s listening to music

    He’s playing the music
    and it exhausts him

    The music comes from

    An instrument with strings

    His growling guts

    He lubricates them with more

  • Saint Bernards are big, heavy dogs

    21 January 2021 by

    he opened another beer
    and sat on
    the couch
    but turned off the TV

    He watched the kid

    The kid was on his knees
    before the coffee table
    busy with
    an orange pencil and a
    piece of paper

    Tongue poked
    to one side and held
    firmly between
    the lips,
    he was writing letters to
    the pet dog
    he’ll never see

    And he did that
    all day long

    Dad sipped at his beer. The
    years of action
    were far beyond him now
    but by all the gods
    he swore
    tonight will be the
    he sneaks into his ex-wife’s
    home and kidnaps
    the dog

    He even rented
    a van
    for it

  • feeling the train

    19 January 2021 by

    A pretty thick
    of hell

    That was life
    so far

    But today things
    will change

    Today he was six
    old and that meant old
    enough to
    guide his blind father
    on the streets

    The old man was only
    blind for
    a year after some work
    related accident involving acid

    And there was a mother
    somewhere too. She left
    shortly after
    father’s accident

    Today father held on
    to his son’s shirt
    at the shoulder and told him
    to walk towards the

    “I want to listen to
    the train,” said father

    but it turned out he
    wanted much
    more than that. He wanted to
    feel the train. Against
    his face

    So he stood on the rails
    and told the kid
    to go back home
    and return after an hour or so

    “Okay,” said the kid. But
    he didn’t leave. He watched
    from a safe distance

    Didn’t even find
    event particularly disturbing

    Then he went back home
    and had some
    fruit loops with milk
    and his first taste of

    He had become a

  • cat shaking the paw

    16 January 2021 by

    She could say it if
    she wanted
    to but
    the words would
    carry no
    weight behind them

    like a cat shaking
    the paw with
    and not understanding
    the real meaning
    the gesture

    so was her
    “I love you.”

    Enough to make an
    old boy cry
    but he
    preferred suicide

    Needless to say
    her response

  • vomiting snake by Bogdan Dragos

    15 January 2021 by

    Originally posted on Gobblers / Masticadores:
    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…

  • no country for romantic men

    12 January 2021 by

    and the few survivors who couldn’t
    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…”


    “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?”


    “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.”

  • songless bird

    11 January 2021 by

    a songless bird

    that would be the nicest
    name she’d been

    the others,
    far more common,
    that little wench
    your bastard kid
    the little rat
    useless piece of shit that came outta you
    and others

    She liked the term
    songless bird
    It was a title worthy of her in
    all the good and the
    bad ways

    The songless bird stands
    locked in her room
    and knocks and waves in
    the window
    for she has no voice to sing

    She gives silent cries to the
    neighbors and
    the passersby when the noises
    from the other side of
    her door
    get too violent

    or when it smells
    of smoke

    Which happens
    every now
    and then

  • hope she’s okay wherever she is

    9 January 2021 by

    she kept saying how much she
    hated her tattoos

    and kept showing them
    to us

    “Got ’em when I was young and
    dumb and now I
    jus’ wanna rip my skin off.”

    She pulled her skirt up
    to show one on her inner thigh. “Ugh, look at
    this one. It’s supposed to
    be a bottle of Jack but looks
    like a wrinkly dick that’s about to
    get in. Shit, and this one… This one
    looks more like a cunt than
    an eye, really.” She kept pulling her
    skirt up farther and farther
    until it became very
    clear that she
    had no underwear

    “You wanna touch it? she’d ask
    from time to time

    It was funny cuz she was in her late
    twenties and we
    were kids. I was twelve if I remember right

    She probably got a kick
    out of making young boys horny

    It validated her
    and we had not a damn thing to object

    Good times

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18 thoughts on “DR Bogdan

Add yours

  1. Hope things are cool and hot DR., I’m a bit curious, I was looking over your work, and wonder if you do any strip writing ? I ‘m working on a book that will be a finish play. I don’t want it to get to much graphic dialog but need the iron words to push these concepts. Any suggestions. Like instead of B, or F, MF, I thought Bush Wet, Funk n Fish, Mold Food, well if you get a minute, Thanks.


  2. When I initially commented I clicked the “Notify me when new comments are added” checkbox and now each time a comment is added I get several e-mails with the same comment. Is there any way you can remove me from that service? Appreciate it!


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