Anuel Rodriguez is a Mexican-American poet living in the San Francisco Bay Area. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in DREGINALD, decomP, The Acentos Review, and elsewhere.

Also by Anuel Rodriguez: Two Poems Amalgamation

Previously in Glass: A Journal of Poetry: Like Sugar, Like Fire Castaways


Anuel Rodriguez

Blue Parabolic

A flint-dark buzzard is hovering in the air like my mind held in place by the wind. Hereford cows graze in coastal cattle ranches; their brownish red bodies and white heads make me think of chalky Minotaurs peeled back like layers of a night-herded dream. Caught in traffic just before Bixby Creek Bridge, I watch a father and son get out of their white van, both barefoot, so they can look out over the rocks at the Pacific. I wonder if the blue the boy sees is bluer than the blue his father sees. In some places, the deep blue edges milky green when it meets the shoreline. As the pair get back inside their van, I notice that there’s something hanging from their rearview mirror that looks like a paper bowl with colorful streamers. Maybe it’s supposed to be a UFO or maybe a jellyfish. A bee tries to hitch a ride with them — I wonder if it can tell the difference between the sky and a blue school bus parked along the side of the highway. One day when the woods and farmland burn and the sun reddens like blood coral, this place will become a blue mosque at the wave-salted tongue of paradise. And our lives will be the smoke on the thread leading back through the throat of the species.




Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.