Issue 11

by MarITza Mora I hid behind my copy of Captain Underpants when their rage walked them into the kitchen with
by Meg Reynolds It was early in summer of ugly nestlings and earwigs knotted in my father’s fence. The branches
by Mary B. Sellers   Clara can only remember three things before the green flash happened, before her face was
by Kara Goughnour   My heart has been a long time spent – a cased cadaver all veil and veneer. A
by sabrina hicks I never felt right claiming your sun-bleached hair and sunset eyes, but that didn’t stop Mama in
by Christopher Gonzalez The woman upstairs—have you met her?—moves furniture between 10pm and midnight. She drags what must be an
by E. Kristin Anderson milk and honey FOR THE FURNACE   (a golden shovel after Kesha)   We begin as
By andrew rogers Your last day pointing was a huge success, even raccoons noticed You pointed out masks, tail rings,
by Justin Rigamonti Imagine everything at once. Every moment of your life, every sound and scene you’ve lived through, all
by Elizabeth J. Coleman This morning by mistake I saw a headline that if the earth moves a tiny bit
by Kathryn McMahon Blackberry bushes are always green as are the ferns and the pines full of shadows. Just because they
This issue took some time. The Third Point Press team was busy creating life or welcoming it to an end