Poetry Archives - Page 3 of 30 - Sensitive Skin Magazine

Myrtle

William Considine

I want all the flowers that thrive right away at the start of spring, that stand alone in the cool noon and the long, chilly shadows of dawn & dusk and through cold nights. They take the first chance opening of light ...

I WANT TO TELL YOU HOW IT WAS

Dorothy Friedman

because this is the only chance I'm going to get-- It was an ordinary day except no one had taken out the garbage. It had been snowing since noon and there were piles of snow on the front lawn and on t...

SATORI IN MANHATTAN

Joel Allegretti

———on the platform at the 175th Street subway station, Washington Heights———I find myself thinking I’m Vladimir in Calvin Klein black lambskin and Estragon in Tommy Hilfiger dim-gray chinos———sitting�...

FOR HERE THERE IS NO PLACE

Anton Yakovlev

You’ve figured out the colonization of Mars and the need to live in caves for five hundred years. You’ve predicted private nuclear weapons, deciphered symbols of bigotry on some trump cards. You’ve held cookout...

Episode 12 – Norman Douglas

Bernard Meisler

Norman Douglas in conversation with Bernard Meisler. Norman Douglas, Bernard Meisler and Tina Carstensen, relaxing in her Avenue D apartment, 1986 Norman Douglas is a writer (though he says he's not) and a poet (though...

HOW TO LIVE WITH YOURSELF

Jeffrey Cyphers Wright

There are only two sins—banality and venality. They are not like revenge, hot red pokers. Jealousy, with its long snoot. Sloth, killing me softly with its lips. Vanity—dynamite in a vise. Lust racing across the mud...

Strawberry

Suzi Kaplan Olmsted

Spring bursting in strawberry juice down my chin While on the TV reality jail show a blond with a model’s bone structure And over-plucked brows is released from men’s jail to the streets Early dawn with no money and...

the dead wife

Carl Watson

The dirt floor had to be leveled And all the stones raked out, Carried out in buckets and piled In the yard as ballast against The bowed foundation of the south wall. There were boulders and bluestone Slabs, some big ...

NATURE

Bonny Finberg

We can rewrite the narrative. Eve eats the apple and leaves the Garden fortified by knowledge and multiplied by wisdom, leaves the comfort of the first mirage,. to find the greater world where good and evil make thin...

An End-of-the-World Cult of My Own

Jose Padua

One day I will have my own end-of-the-world cult. We will believe that the end of the world is coming tomorrow, and that we had better be prepared. If the end doesn’t come tomorrow, we will admit our mistake, and post...