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Third Point Press Third Point Press
  • Submission Guidelines
  • About
  • Masthead
  • Past Issues

The Futures We Live With

By JJ Peña my high school teacher’s words: you have to start planning for the future. it falls, plop! right on your head, whether you like it or not. normal…

Red Bird, Red Bird

By Summer J. Hart We practice cartwheels on the lawn. Bright red summer birds pluck insects out of the air. I slip on my jellies even though they blister my…

An Introduction to Asexual Rock Climbing

By Robert Ball The first time you entrust your life to the strength of your fingertips curled over a half-inch ledge, you will feel the spark she was supposed to…

icarus’ flight away from the sun

By JJ Peña when i think of dying, icarus comes to mind: a winged angel comet-ing from the sky in a triple helix, unable to move or stop his descent.…

The Cave of Sleeping Sharks

By Lindsey Baker When we didn’t go out into the new neighborhood at night, we spent hours on Tammy’s computer in her big room on the empty side of the…

Our Father to Make

By James Braun Listen to our father. He is a screen door rattling hinges, hauling in cedar split for us brothers beside the burnt-away coals of our wood stove. Hear…

Counting Magpies

By anita goveas You can say it’s just a scrape but these are my favourite purple cowhide leather shoes, and do you think purple shoes grow on trees, or you…

Brooding

By Epiphany Ferrel My silver-laced Wyandotte hen has gotten broody. She’s been sitting on the nest for 38 hours and she won’t let the other hens in to lay their…

How My Parents, Who Gave Me Up for Adoption, Might Have Met

By Epiphany Ferrell 1. She was a dog groomer and he had an Airedale terrier that bit everyone who attempted to pluck his coat as the dog breed standards suggest.…

radioactive summer / you are a chorus of fangs

By Ashley Cline you howl— & split my lip like watermelons / left on the neon vine, fat & summer-drunk off / plutonium & moonshine you howl— & bite my…

Last Frontier

By Christina Beasley The anatomy of the sea anemone is intricate. I swam through one's thick mouth and met miles of burial ground: grave upon grave, a delicate smog and…

A Kafka Manual

by charles kell I. Read the instructions as if they are the landscape. Stand straight at the open window with black boots hugging your feet. Make a crescent from your…


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