The Hills of My Home

By Niki Esko

Addicted to the surreal in the real.
Pale light finds the veins of air in the green of twilight. This is my favorite time to walk, and so I go.

Sheets of fine gold, corrupt only in the hands of man, grace enemies of the earth.
Below this perfect light lay matted dogs and tattered cardboard signs that read
"I'm not gonna lie to you. I wanna get high. Happy 4th of July." A man waves. Spits at my feet.
His shirt reads "No Fear"
Truth comes rolling, heavier than the fog.
A family barbecues on their front porch. All-American orange freckles assault my passing. A father turns a hot dog link while frowning at his wife. Her back is turned. Children sip brown soda from a Carls Jr. cup and kick dandelions to oblivion. Above, the clouds close in.

Mosquitoes begin to smell of blood. Tumbling hay falls apart against barbed wire. As the sky soars low, so do the turkey vultures and crows. Heat and oily haze dance together as waves above concrete. The hummingbird grows patient; the hum of its wings is but a concerned murmur now. A young black cow stands alone beyond the fence. It faces me. Suddenly, large blue fireworks shoot up from behind the hills. They whistle and whirl, crack, snap, disappear. And still the cow faces me.

A family climbs into their SUV, perhaps to go out for dinner. They are all round in their own right. One, the shape of an egg, helps a plum and pear into the backseat. The driver, a football of a woman, empties receipts and old coupons from her purse onto the corner. There, she has found her keys. Metallic circles shimmer on the ground as they pull away.


Ah, this is Niki from LFS right? I had no idea that the insurektoEsko person who commented on that blog post I did titled "Fuck Obama" on Double Consciousness was you. I remember looking at this blog a long time ago and remember reading something completely different from what this post is. What happened to that post, never got a chance to fully read it. Anyways, keep posting, if you wanna post anything on race, white privilege/supremacy, or whatever on Double Consciousness just e-mail me.

I love your style Niki Esko. I absolutely do.

Wow... I've read some of your peotry here and there Niki... I have always known that you have a extremely creative mind and you are soo powerful and strong to be able to put that creativity into words. While reading your poetry on here, it makes me explore different areas of my mind that I didn't even know existed. Amazing... I really want to hear you read your poetry when I come back to the bay. Take me... please!!?!!?

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