Rodriguez occupies multiple spaces, multiple realities. Sometimes he lives between his actual reality “we locked into hate shrouded in the lips of love” and what he wishes it to be “the midnight romps we once had”. Sometimes he lives between the ugliness “talk to me of your terrors” and the beauty “talk to me of love” of his world. Sometimes he lives between the despair of the life he has “Cops harassed us every day” and the hope of what that life could be “climb out of this hole…, be this dream”. He continually bridges those opposites with his poetry.