Poets Resist
Edited by Michael Carter
August 15, 2019
Anuel Rodriguez
Like Sugar, Like Fire
white crosses brown bodies blooming
in the desert & under golden hills
as a child I often wondered if my voice
was brown or white now I wonder if
my heart is a target or an X a shadow
of an exit wound or an organ pumping wet light
through homeless veins I think about
the Day of the Dead tent & inflatable sugar skull pool floats
I saw last week while camping with family
in Pinecrest just a day after the Gilroy shooting
I think about the article I read yesterday morning
about Mexican-American mothers who used to
rub lemon juice on their children's faces to
lighten their skin I think about the word
[invasion] & how it was applied to migrants
approaching the border & I think of all
the reasons shopping for school supplies
shouldn't feel like a gunfight in the middle
of a cartel drug war a wave of blackness crests
over our heads & spills through our TV screens
white noise hisses in my ears & I can almost taste
the gunsmoke El Paso is a burning cathedral
a shelled sun of a city forever cracked open
as the nation stares at the blood in its yolk
Poets Resist is published by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.