Daydreaming as a profession

one more coffee  by Bogdan Dragos A customer spat intoher facetodaysaid the coffee she preparedwas too hotand she refused toget the authoritiesinvolvedtold the managershe forgave the guyShe was like thatEvery time someone wrongedher with somethingshe’d be as quick to forgive as achildIt was nice workingwith herThough she was alsoone of those people who werea bit too good fortheir own goodHence…

he wouldn’t let goof that booknobody knew what itwasbecause nobody couldpry it off his hands tohave a lookEh, whateverit was just a bookOther crazed menheld on todangerous objects likeknives and screwdriversand shards of glass wrappedin a cloth and a padlockin a sock ever ready to becomea flail when swung rightBut he justheld on to that book with grayhard coversand like some evangelistwent…

it is time to give up by Bogdan Dragos Yeah,it’s one of thoseeveningswhen realityjust doesn’t want tocooperateWhen you’ve given ityour alland feel like there’snothing left butto mournthe pages layscattered aboutlike autumn leaves, onlywith less valueAt least the leavesserve a purpose, don’t they?while the pages you’vewritten…The beer also tasteslike vomited sulfur You even forgot todrag from the…

New poem featured in the illustrious SPILLWORDS PRESS!TITLE: The Lives and Dreams of Some of Us( ⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃ Give it a read HEREThanks!

he is… you know by Bogdan Dragos just a thin, colorlesslightfiltered throughthe cloudsthe sunjust didn’t botheranymorelate autumnIt seemednobody botheredtoo muchthere were almostfifty people thereall gathered for thefuneralHe lit a cigarette, not givinga damn what othersmight say or think, anddragged a long, lazy puffand said, “Still better than awedding,” to no onein particularA few did hear…

the boys will understand by Bogdan Dragos one more scroll withthe thumb on thescreenreveals an adwith a message thatreadsYOUR DREAM COMING TRUEHe immediatelyskips itbut the minddwells on ita bit longerDream come true?People should stopassociating the achievement of dreamswith happinessIt’s rarely, if ever, the samethingHe repeats this tohimself and feels likesome philosopher or somethingas he…

flower dog by Bogdan Dragos “It looks like…A flower dog,” he said, lookingat it with evergrowing fascinationHe didn’t know whata ‘flower dog’ wasbut those were the first wordsthat came to mindas he beheld the thingOthers would’ve haddifferentwords for itlikeroadkillHe hit it with thecar thisnightand stopped to pick it upand took it hometalking to italong the wayHe didn’t know what kindof animal…

he’s all over the place by Bogdan Dragos Something wasn’t rightabout himI mean,the guy was way too richand privilegedto have missing teethyet his mouthopened like some rusty dungeongateEvery time they triedto fix his teethhe’d break them againintentionallywith the claw ofa hammeror with a rock when a hammerwasn’t availableWhat a ladHe kept all thoserotten vegetables and fruitsand meats under his…

a fingernail  by Bogdan Dragos he startedlate in lifesomewhere inhis early fiftiesif I recalland in just a fewvery short years hebecamethe inspiration and themotivation for allthings associated withlate bloomingHe sure proved to theworld that it’s nevertoo late fordreams“But what made you start?”I once asked himand he said, “a fingernail.”Clearly he wanted me to ask,‘A fingernail!? Oh my…

he’s wrong, but he’ll never know by Bogdan Dragos he rarely goes outin the summermainly just sitsinsidein his shortsand drinks beer allday and typesendless words ona mechanical keyboardit's not even attached toanythingnot connectedthere's nothing toconnect it tohe's got no computerand noelectronic devices inthe whole houseThe keyboard he foundin the dumpsterone day while takingout the…

blessed to live in interesting times by Bogdan Dragos she had those ridiculouslylong and sharpfake nailsthat doubled the lengthof each fingerThose on the right handwerepainted silverand those on the leftblackand she liked topoke things with themand one of thosethings wasmy sideevery time we sat nextto each otherat times she’d poke hardenough to hurt herown fingerand then would give a mockcry and…

the great gambler  by Bogdan Dragos we all know what makes anathlete greatwhat makes a martialartist greata fishermana chefa mountain climbera race pilota paintera huntersurebutwhat makes a gamblergreat?Now this is rarelyif everaskedSomehow the answer, “he who winsmost and loses least isa great gambler,” remainsunsatisfactoryIt would’ve been fineif we were talking abouta boxer for example,but…

they called him Jesus by Bogdan Dragos the reason they calledhim Jesushad nothing to do withhis refusal to do drugsHe was far frombeing the only homeless guywho stayed soberBut he was the only onewho owned a donkeyit grazed the weeds aroundhis tentand at times carried himthrough the parkHe didn’t go aroundpreachingand that’s whatmade everybody lovehim more Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English…

Feeling bitter againhe opens the beer can stares at it stares at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wardrobe door “Well,” he says with a sigh. “If I’m lonely it’s because I’m at the top. It’s always lonely at the top. The winner stands alone.” He raises the can at his own reflection and drinks Thank you!

all he has is what the rest of us are missing by Bogdan Dragos he sleeps outsidein the grassor on some park benchdoes absolutely nothingall daynot a thingother thanexisting and breathingand sitting in silenceIf he gets anything to eatfrom the mercy of othershe’s gratefuland if nothe’s also gratefulhe has no complaintsno familyno friendsno possessionsno wishesnothing to strive fornothing to…

be alive in the present moment by Bogdan Dragos I don't know how many friendshipsare forged bydivine interventionall I know isthat theirs wasdefinitely one of 'emI don't even know whatbreed that dogwasIt was one of the big, heavyonesand it walked in front of theold guywithout a leash or anythingAnd the old guy wouldcall the dog BoBo would turn away thescoundrels who'd try tosteal the old man's…

too dumb to get it?  by Bogdan Dragos the TV was blaring politicalcrap againsomewhere in the backgroundalways the same fearinducing storybut she didn't needthe political turmoil in thecountry and the world at largeto make her feel afraidShe looked atLeonardo, her turtlethrough the glass of the tank"Soon enough we'll be evicted.I've seen homeless peoplewith dogs and cats and evenbirds, but nevera…