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Third Point Press Third Point Press
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  • Masthead
  • Past Issues

Semi-Permanent Guidelines for Building Gretel

by Hannah v warren You don’t have to be told twice. You’ve read the story. Brother & sister trade bones or cleverness for survival. They leave the forest with arms…

The Arrival of Pyramus and Thisbe

by chancellor page The storm drove all suicides to the shore to welcome the boat toppling up and over waves, a silhouette on currents rolling open in a bruised and…

Becoming Gator Joe

By ALlie Marini In the cool shade of the mud pit at Gator Joe’s Intercession Junction, two juvenile bull gators named George & Gracie (though both were male) lazed in…

Up In Smoke

By Avra Margariti Tendrils of smoke, the same color as my coffee dregs, rub against my cheek. I no longer shiver as much at the icy slickness of her touch. Picking…

Winner, Winner

By Natasha Yglesias “What are we doing?” I ask in the backseat of one of Mother’s cars. Or maybe I ask, “Where are we going?” Maybe we are standing, burning,…

The Great New England Clothing Heap

By Corey Farrenkopf Ecotourists gathered to watch the Great New England Clothing Heap scale the Berkshire Mountains. The amorphous mass of t-shirts and dresses, jackets and jeans seethed and swelled as…

If the Body is a Prison-House Where is the Warden I Have Some Complaints About the Plumbing

by danielle rose “The idea that the body is a prison-house, to which the soul is condemned for past misdeeds, is attributed by Plato to the Orphics.” they ask /…

The Void

By Brianne Allen Everything about her body was a contradiction. Laying down on the medical bed, feeling the paper beneath her crinkle and fold, Lou conflated her very skin with…

Eight Plants to Help You Thrive this Winter Even if You Live in Growing Zone Four

By Timothy Boudreau Winter in Growing Zone Four can be challenging, with its bitter cold, terrorizing snow events and inhumanly brief daylight hours. Here’s the indoor gardener’s must-have list for not…

Tano I’ Man Chamorro

by danielle P. williams Tano I’ Man Chamorro.[1] But who am I really? I was once described as a half breed. I was once described as royalty. My nana used…

fists give birth to violets

by evan anders now that god is buried in her golden birdcage we travel glimmering in peppermint dusk with box wine my fist gives birth to violets your goldfinch hammers…

Martyr From the West

by evan palmer When the forest fell and landed between our eyes and every rising column of smoke was a new friend we hadn’t met. When every home condemned by…
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