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  Table of contents Issue Twenty-five GHOST TOOTH


When this happened to you, when
the fire took your eyebrows, nose, lips

those wisps of what’s not left of your scalp, your hair,
did it laugh ecstatically about the terror we’d feel

seeing you hold the cue stick between thick webs
of grafted skin where fingers used to be – or did it

intend to take you, beginning to end, from the waters
of the Nile to the burning bush? And how did we

not see it coming, like a sunrise, a toothache,
an extraction – all in a single moment?




Stephen Jackson lives and writes in Seattle, WA. His poems have previously been published in The Ibis Head Review and Impossible Archetype.

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