Writing Archives - Sensitive Skin Magazine

The Auctioneer

Bernard Meisler

My wife showed me the back of a circular, junk mail. There was an ad for an auction the next day. A police auction, items confiscated from felons. Jewelry, artwork, gold coins and such. It was at the community center, right ...

DISPUTABLY 8TH STREET

Joel Allegretti

DISPUTABLY 8TH STREET W. 8th Street, Greenwich Village, N.Y. June 2018 PRIME RETAIL SPACE FOR LEASE Domino’s SPACE AVAILABLE State Farm PROFESSIONAL SPACE FOR RENT This isn’t the Tangier souk of leopard-skin...

Tainting Her

Sharon Olinka

Balthus, Les beaux jours (Golden Days), 1944-45, Oil on canvas Like Balthus, he paints a female model in a chair. Dabs of sickly green define her. The air around her ocher. Such small ha...

Radio Activity Kills

bart plantenga & Paloma Jet

Excerpt number 3 from Radio Activity Kills, by bart plantenga & paloma jet DJ Kees flees Amsterdam under mysterious circumstances with teen daughter, Alouette. A new life in the USA leads to an obligatory hitchhiking road...

After the Ash-White Wind

Robert C. Hardin

9/11/01: 8:54 a.m. My shift has ended and I’m sitting at my computer, finessing a letter to Swedish musician, Tomas Pettersson. Looking out of an eighteenth-story window off Maiden Lane, I notice what might have passed ...

Gerard Petrus Fieret: Lurid and Exalted Photographs

Greg Masters

The women are posing, yes. But they are not engaged in a casual flirtation with a man who has persuaded them to return to his studio with him. I am supposing that the ordinariness of their day in a small town in Holland has ...

Photographs

Three Poets, Three Books — Café Crazy, We Became Summer, and Blue Lyre

William Considine

Café Crazy, by Francine Witte We Became Summer, by Amy Barone Blue Lyre, by Jeffrey Cyphers Wright On Wednesday, June 13, three well-known Downtown New York poets read together from their new books, published w...

RMX

Jürgen Schneider

Amy Winehouse staggers in shortly before midnight. It doesn’t go without notice how unwell she is. Amy will be DJ’ing. There is a yellow shimmer to her skin and her skinny body looks more fragile than ever, her hands ...

John Ashbery – an Oblique Remembrance

Max Blagg

I was introduced to John Ashbery's poetry in the summer of 1971, by a beautiful young American poet living in London. We met at a church jumble sale in Belsize Square. Her flat was across the street. I woke up on her couch l...