This Means War

In the dream I had last night
I was sitting in a field on the border
between three countries.
A diplomat took a shotgun
and shot me in the mouth.
All of my teeth fell into the grass
like hail just fallen from the sky
waiting on the ground to melt.
A leader from each country
picked up a tooth and refused
to give it back. A small city
had been carved into one of my canines.
This is an act of war, they said.
I know, I said, but I need those.
Then the men ran into the hills
of their own countries leaving me
alone in the middle of the field
with no city, and no way to eat.

About Sophia Holtz

Sophia Holtz is a writer, performer, and sometimes-illustrator. She has performed her poetry in bars, colleges, and the occasional basement throughout the United States. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in RHINO, decomP, Consequence, and Muzzle, among others. She tweets @sophillazilla and her website is sophiaholtz.com

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