Published inDrunken DostoevskyBut This Is Not My War!I dabble in random words calling myself a writer, And in numbers of the stock market, for sustenance. It is four thousand miles away, and…Mar 12, 2022Mar 12, 2022
Published inDrunken DostoevskyA Pillow of Crimson OleanderA fever, a dream, A pillow of crimson oleander.Jan 11, 2022Jan 11, 2022
Published inDrunken DostoevskyThe Scent of Distant SnowThere will be more autumnsDec 28, 20211Dec 28, 20211
