Essay
Drone Loops and the Signature of Bliss
Robert C. Hardin
The experience of bliss means different things to different people. For this frustratingly former arranger and studio keyboard player, euphoria is conditioned by the search for perfect sounds.
To me, bliss means the slow...
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Essay
Unfinished – A New Translation of Vladimir Mayakovsky’s Poem Fragment
Jenny Wade
Unfinished, a poem fragment by Vladimir Mayakovsky, discovered in M’s papers after his suicide in 1930.
Любит? не любит? Я руки ломаю
и пальцы разбрасываю разломавши
т...
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Events
Poetry Month Release Reading at Bowery Poetry Club, 5-17-15
The Editors
To celebrate the release of Sensitive Skin #12, the Poetry Month special, we had a reading at the Bowery Poetry Club in NYC. About half of the published poets were able to make it. It was a lot of fun, but if you weren't the...
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Art
Poetry Month, 2015
The Editors
What a Poetry Month it's been! Special thanks to Winston Smith for the back cover. Here's links to all 30 posts:
April 1 - John S. Hall and Rick Prol
April 2 - Bonny Finberg and Charles Gatewood
April 3 - JD King
April...
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Poem
Suspect Device
Michael Carter
for Seamus Heaney
In a cold stone cabin
In a deserted Cill Rialaig solstice-tide,
West wind wailing through drafty rafters,
Enounced aloud “Hrothgar Skyldinga”
& your Beowulf by turf-light,
Huddled in checkered ...
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Poem
Flack from Taylor
Taylor Mead
A President who makes war
Against and on Behalf of the
Worst of the Arab world.
Who sells the country to the
Japanese government and its subsidized
corporations.
Who is a mealy-mouthed lying bastard
Banker.
W...
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Poem
I’ve Got My Shiny Kitten
Sharon Mesmer
— for Yun Peng
Hell yeah I’m skinny.
My body is COVERED in skin!
But I’ve got my shiny kitten
and I am not the same person I used to be.
Shopping naked with my shiny kitten
is like finding out that Beyonc...
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Art
off on grand boulevard
Norman Douglas
1.
fuck you fuck you fuck
you scribbled the self-
proclaimed, officially
acclaimed, pharmaceutically
addle-brained bourgeois
poet in morning electric’s light.
okay, i added the burgher bit
because i’m talking cit...
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Poem
The Viewing
David Rattray
The wife spoke to me
by name:
“Thanks so much for coming,
David.” Some didn’t
want to see him. One
wouldn’t even go in. I did.
I touched his hand.
It was as if he were only
sleeping, soft and warm.
I never ...
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