Whatsoever things ye ask for when ye pray by Bogdan Dragos

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she came out of her

house after

the heavy rain stopped

and walked up to

the bridge

and leaned forward

over the rail

and watched the

turbid river flowing by,

disappearing with

infinite length below her

feet

The rail was

wet and

she wiped it with

a few tissues

and then got her notebook

out

Using a simple pencil

she began drawing

the river

There wasn’t much to it,

just a couple of lines

but she gave them a nice

form

And when she was

done with the

drawing

she began writing

Wrote a poem into

the drawn river

Eternal sensation of

falling

I hear an inhuman voice

calling

Feel my awareness

crawling

underneath. Is it angel

for real or just a myth?

I shall jump toward it

I shall jump toward it

I’m ready this

world to quit

She ripped the paper

and crumpled it

and unfolded it again

and crumpled it

again

It was soft now

She laid it on the dry

rail and

reached into her backpack

for the little bag of

weed

She poured the weed

on the soft paper

and rolled it,

put it together

When it was done

she lit it

and puffed a long smoke

held it inside

released it

watched the brown

river below

She didn’t need anything

in this world. Had all

she could ever want

“It’s simple,” she preached

to the water below. “First

you get rid of the

idea of sin. Nothing you can do

can anger or displease God.

Second, you believe that

God gives you anything. Anything

at all. You’ve but to ask for it.

The right way to

ask is to believe that you

already have it. If you

can hold it in

your mind

you’ll be holding it in

your hands.

It’s all being done unto you

according to the strength

of your faith.

These days, when I want something

I write it on a piece

of paper

and then roll it

and smoke it.

Today I want to meet with

angels. With my higher self. Face

to face.

And I get exactly what I

ask for.”

She dragged the last

smoke

Held it in

And jumped into

the water

As always,

she got exactly what

she asked for

-BOGDAN DRAGOS

Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for a gambling company, working twelve-hour shifts locked in a dark office full of TV monitors. There he mostly daydreams and writes poems and stories. He also manages a poetry blog Daydreaming as a profession.

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