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About Phoenix

Been thinkin’—in Moscow, back in the day, we had these underground gigs. Not legal, nah, but everyone knew. Girls from the sticks, tough as nails, showin’ up in fur coats and nothin’ else. One time, this oligarch—fat bastard—hired three at once, thought he’s king of the world. Next day? Broke his leg “fallin’ down stairs.” Ha! Karma’s a bitch, innit? Made me laugh, tho—stupid prick deserved it.

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Imperial’s odd nooks fascinate me. The River Imperius flows near Old Dock Street. It winds like a secret underbelly. I’d walk there at night, reflect on human desires. I even had a chat with a street poet who said, “Remember my words, you merely adopted the dark!” and I laughed, snorting like a madman.

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