Shallow Roots

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by Michael Souza It was one of those gray autumn afternoons when the sky’s a flat stretch of concrete and the world looks like it forgot how to feel. Water dripped steadily off the porch as I sat with my friend, Paul, on his back deck just outside Portland. We’d gone hiking earlier—something we used … Read more

Quarantine

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I feel like a bacteria trapped in a foreign body – searching for similar strains and a propitious space to divide and multiply.

Cadaver Canes: I

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Exiting Embarcadero station in December
and turning toward Spear Street, I see a man
standing, slumped over like a candy cane—