Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 14 of 60 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

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...

DON’T HIDE THE MADNESS—William S. Burroughs in Conversation with Allen Ginsberg–reviewed

Marc Olmsted

DON'T HIDE THE MADNESS William S. Burroughs in Conversation with Allen Ginsberg (Steven Taylor, ed.) Three Rooms Press $26.00 Those lucky enough to have socialized with William Burroughs report the best situations had...

Review

David West – White Ink on Black Paper

David West

I started doing these drawings in April 2017 around the time of the French national election. I continued making them until approximately July 2108. So some of them were done in Venice, some of them were done as a reaction t...

Drawings

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 ...

The Bouncer by David Gordon – Review

Bernard Meisler

The Bouncer, a novel by David Gordon The Mysterious Press, New York, 259 pages Legend has it that when criminals and others in "the game" would read Elmore Leonard's novels, they always assumed he was a crook who had don...

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...

Sixty

Patrick O'Neil

There is nothing easy about turning sixty. The days whip by in a whirlwind, kids look younger, and you can’t understand what they’re even talking about. Cops, bosses, and doctors could be your daughters and sons. Films a...

Screw

Marc Olmsted

It was the end of the 80s into 1990 and very hard for us to find a good rock n roll dance club in San Francisco. Everything was disco electronica and it all sounded the same with that amyl nitrate bass beat. The more inter...

The Brothers Allman

Vincent Zangrillo

In 1969, Duane Allman founded the Allman Brothers, recruiting his brother, Gregg, on keyboards and vocals, a second guitarist, Dickie Betts, bassist Berry Oakley and a set of drummers, Butch Trucks and Jaimoe Johansen. In Ju...

VLADIMIR MAYAKOVSKY

Jack Hirschman

VLADIMIR MAYAKOVSKY You, thunderer and swirl of the flag of blood and roses, kneader of the bread of poem, deathless comrade of dithyramb and liberty, you whose suicided life I carry as a forge, ...

In This Dream

Rebecca Weiner Tompkins

IN THIS DREAM We are always dancing: you lift your arms above me like a bird in a summery place. Sometimes there is music and the softest shadows; other times the air carries us through the rhythm of tall, flat buil...