Turf Wars
by Tina Hacker

Our front doors
open like mouths,
bite into streets
like teeth. We roll
our tongues
over groomed grass.
Savor the trimmings
of ash, oak, maple
as they fall into gaps
between molars.
We swallow blocks,
so they become us.
Our privilege
until a coyote swaggers by.
Assured, unhurried,
it peers back
as we gape from front stoops.
Continues unconcerned,
claims our turf
with each stride.

Previously published in I-70 Review 2019

tina hacker

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Tina Hacker, a four-time Pushcart Prize nominee, was a finalist in New Letters and George F. Wedge competitions. Her work has appeared in a variety of publications, both online and in print, including the Whirlybird Anthology of Kansas City Writers, San Pedro River Review, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, I-70 Review, The Fib Review, and Quantum Fairy Tales.  She has a full-length poetry book, Listening to Night Whistles, and a chapbook, Cutting It.  Since 1976, she has edited poetry for Veterans’ Voices, a national magazine of writing by military veterans.