Issue Three

Honklo

  • Here we are folks: Issue Three of Silly Goose Press has finally been hatched! We had the pleasure of reading through almost 200 amazing submissions. We laughed, we cried, we honked, and experienced every emotion in between. 

    As always, the best part of this business is getting to grow our flock. We love building our community of honking incredible writers, some of which have even turned into friends. We love getting to collaborate with our goslings to make sure we are putting out the absolute best pieces we can for you, the audience, to enjoy. 

    This issue truly has it all: whimsical prose, moving poetry, charming creative non-fiction, and amazing art. We hope it will bring some cheer to you all during this holiday season, and that this will allow you to virtually migrate to warmer ponds. 

    Thank you to our day one supporters, and welcome to our new friends! Enjoy Silly Goose Press Issue Three. Come back in 2025 for plenty more honks, and come visit our booth at the AWP conference in March in LA! 

    We love you all. Honk honk!

  • Dearest Goose,

    Anyone else in a long-distance-best-gooseship? Anyone else miss their flock and wish they could just fly over to their pond? Us too. As with our first two issues, Issue Three was cobbled together over facetime, zoom, text, email, and canva pro. We are just four geese, each living in a different state (and one in a different country), and all we want to do is be together, but alas. We are grateful for the technology that keeps us connected, allowing us to speak as often as our silly little hearts want. 

    Though none of us were graduating this time around, we all still do have other jobs and families and friends and hobbies and lives, and literary magazines are a lot of work! But we are so happy to be doing that work together. Each issue is different, each piece we curate its own individual feather, and we are so grateful to be entrusted with our goslings’ art. Writing and creating is such an intimate and vulnerable thing, and there’s often an anxiety that is hard to describe when sharing your work with others, so we are just so happy we have the privilege of being a part of so many writer’s journeys. 

    We are excited to go into the holiday season with more time to spend with the people in our lives that we love, and can’t wait to get back to adding goslings to the flock come 2025. We are most looking forward to spending time with each other and our other writing friends at AWP, the national writer’s conference, next March, and if you’re there, please come honk at us! 

    We hope that this issue brings you some light and joy to your life. Though the sun may be setting earlier (at least in the northern hemisphere), great art has a power to light little fires within us all and we hope that this issue does that for you. 

    Thank you all so much for reading our words and the words of our hatchlings. We hope you enjoy Silly Goose Press Issue Three. 

    HONKS&KISSES! 

    -The Flock

    (Lexi, Rhiannon, Parker, and Eric)

View as a PDF:

Poetry Molly O’Toole (she/her) Poetry Molly O’Toole (she/her)

October

brings forty fly carcasses

big shining dog eyes 

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Fiction Peter Battle Biles Fiction Peter Battle Biles

The Observer

I met the observer on the night of Tommy’s party, a brisk evening in October when it was already feeling haunted around the neighborhood

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Poetry Jackie Berry (she/her) Poetry Jackie Berry (she/her)

Omphalos

Stone is a millenia-hardened structure, 

yet the shell of your ear is translucent in the waxy light of dawn.

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Fiction Maria Hossain (she/her) Fiction Maria Hossain (she/her)

Garur Dal

On the last day of Ashwin, you and your twin sister ask your father for some Garur Dal.

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Poetry Steven C. Wright (he/him) Poetry Steven C. Wright (he/him)

Transience romantic

I want to live nomadically across the gates at Newark Airport

I’ll sleep on charging stations under intercoms like crib mobiles

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Poetry Natalye Childress (she/her) Poetry Natalye Childress (she/her)

geocentric flyby

out here in this continuum, it’s lonely, vast, and cold. i keep circling the sun, and yet. try as i might,  i can’t get close enough to his warmth.

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