Category: Side A

Flash Fiction for Side A: “Anglers” by Dan Shields

Anglers We watch their suns drift like pulp to the bottom of the glass, these days between sleep and the gasp. We skim them like stones on a creek. These days we squat and moan—old tequila worms squirming in the bottle. A big yellow bus scrambles past the bones of a stop. Our stop. The…
Side A Poetry: “California” by Dara-Lyn Shrager

California The weeping cherry trees behind our housewere once no taller than kindergarten boyscolliding plastic trucks on a carpet of EZ grass.Now, giant leaf canopies block the sun.There’s just the lone dog out there, chasingsudden whips of wind. Deep beneath my collar,I feel cold. Hungry for those half-eatenbowls of Cheerios left bloating by the kitchensink.…
Side A Hybrid: “Anecdotal Evidence” by Edie Meade

Anecdotal Evidence I. a. A man’s hand amputated at the lumberyard maintains a distal phantom structure through pins and needles continually fingerpicking “Wildwood Flower”; more research is needed into phantom limbs as a grief of the body. b. Necromancy cannot call up legs blown off in Belgian trenches, in part because there is nothing to…
Side A: “Night” a poem by Brenton Booth

Night She says she has been thinking a lot about killing herself. How everything would be much easier then. She has tears in her eyes she can’t control, I know she isn’t lying. I think of our first date. Wandering around the Botanical Gardens just before it closed for the night. There was an exhibition…
New Side A Microfiction: “Opportunity Meets Preparation” by Andrea Marcusa

Opportunity Meets Preparation Why are you throwing out the Valium? They’re expired. I recovered the yellow pharmacy vial from the garbage. Inside, the pills look perfectly pink and round, only the bottle looks cloudy and aged. They are only four years old. You keep aspirin longer. That’s different. My husband likes to be accurate, knows…
A-Sides: Six Poems after Bill Evans by Mark Lamoureux

Re: Person I Knew for Chris McCreary Chasm crier cryall day long outsidethe jewelry store. Hand models with skullrings pluck heart stringsstretched taut by two poleswith drawn-on lightning bolts. Ears’ chic cry Mr.Knowalittlebit abouta thing called lovelornnostalgia for an old-school’s out for summer; get your whitechocolate skull crushed by Korybantesat low noon, beside the bladed gills…
“A Day at the Beach,” a poem for Side A by Nicole Callihan

A Day at the Beach The nurse says I’ll likely feel okay, a little tired, very warm. Like you’ve spent a day at the beach, she says. But it’s winter in New York. After treatment, I eat two street tacos on a cold wet corner, walk to Chinatown, pay cash for burn cream. There’s a…
New Poetry for Side A: “into the looking glass” by Sarah Aziz

into the looking glass and stumbling into you, father-land. your breath lances through me like a friday afternoon scolding.she traces my crooked nose, and cuts her fingertip on the wanton marblesswishing in your mouth. I understand you, which is to say, I am you: swaddledin a dream of pink, a moth eating into a pair…
Side A Hybrid Piece: “Early People” by Jeffrey Hermann

Early People Early people looked at stars and just had no idea. Then someone had an idea. They drew it on a cave wall with a burnt stick. Meanwhile, I’m eating Sun Chips from a machine. If I had to explain the world to paleolithic humans I’d take them someplace quiet and wait for an…
“Play Thief,” a Side A poem by Adam Stutz

Play Thief I catch the poison too early this morningcatch the eroticism of sloth a voluptuous fog sweeping in dousing narratives absence tense pressed into relief like a dysfunctional search engine pronoun I correct the overcorrections + keep correctingcorresponding to faulty focus pressing on lenseslike I should be elsewhere I slap on labels to…