Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 21 of 62 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

6 PM ON THE BQE

Joel Allegretti

6 PM ON THE BQE Waiting to exit, a dozen cars deep, I glance out the driver-side window and, beyond six over- worked lanes, behold rolling gray acres of gravestones. As the minutes perish and blow across ...

There is No Brooklyn Bound F Service

Jennifer Juneau

There is No Brooklyn Bound F Service no F trains from this station, the sign says at 42nd street & sixth avenue (where you spent your day) to get to the lower east side (where you’ll spend your night) you must take t...

The Opportunity of a Lifetime

Mike Hudson

The canyon was broken and hilly, with shallow arroyos cutting north to south and green agave plants and small stands of Joshua trees providing the only color there was against the relentless grey of the desert and the dirty ...

Evergreen

The Big Space Fuck

Kurt Vonnegut

The Big Space Fuck KURT VONNEGUT / AGAIN, DANGEROUS VISIONS, HARLAN ELLISON, ED., 1972 “What was the dirtiest story I ever wrote?” asked Kurt Vonnegut in Palm Sunday, his 1981 “autobiographical collage.” “Surel...

Confessions of a Wind-Up Doll (True Burlesque)

Peter Marra

Confessions of a Wind-Up Doll (True Burlesque) There is always beauty in the hissing sounds. The alternating camera speeds reveal a long-lashed woman; touching experimental films, she has a forceful birth to destroy ...

Paris Scratch vs. NY Sin Phoney in Face Flat Minor

bart plantenga

Introducing 6 new video snapshots, 3 each from Paris Scratch & NY Sin Phoney in Face Flat Minor, which will hopefully illustrate the fortuitous strategy of the 2 books, a basic, not-well-thought-out premise of wandering & do...

Head Without a Body

Marc Olmsted

I can't remember when I first met Vinny but by first memory he was already using heroin, as was Mark F. and now Peter. It was basically an East Coast thing that was kept very on the D/L out in the Wild West, so I never saw ...

Sensitive Skin Books

Why Sing?

John J. Trause

John J. Trause’s book of traditional and experimental poems, Why Sing?, presents a literary world ebbing between the call of the past and the allure of the future. Why Sing? seeks to create a new international and multicul...

The Trumpeters

Michael Rothenberg

The Trumpeters Cowards in white sheets, the skinhead cops and racists, the religious working men and women who think a woman’s place is in the kitchen and children are to be seen and not heard, and believe people of...

Macy Dreams of Red and Blue

Mac Blauner

There is the whoop of a siren, and suddenly red and blue lights play over the backs of her closed eyelids. She lies in bed. She knows it’s the cops. This is always how she wakes when they come to her father’s house in th...

Pierced by Night-Colored Threads, by Dean Kostos, reviewed

Ron Kolm

Pierced by Night-Colored Threads by Dean Kostos, published by MadHat Press, (Asheville, North Carolina, 2017). Reviewed by Ron Kolm I’ve read a fair amount of poetry; I was the editor of The Evergreen Review for thr...

Review

For Bob Marley and other poems

Tsaurah Litzky

For Bob Marley I grind the beans for my morning coffee, organic fair trade beans from Trader Joe’s in the electric coffee grinder my father gave me so long ago, the smell of happiness fills my kitchen, th...

No One’s Beat Samsara and Other Poems

Peter Marti

No One’s Beat Samsara You just can’t win vs. that Wheel of Birth & Death when you have women, mojo and looks, something else will be missing—your teeth haven't all been accounted for and now an ex is asking for ...

This Cat Is Now My Cat & other poems

Craig Kite

This Cat Is Now My Cat I hope that my girlfriend doesn't come back tonight. In fact, I hope my girlfriend never comes back. I hope that her cat becomes my cat. It basically already is. I fucking love this cat. Thi...

Pier 39

Julia Kissina

"Give me a blow job!" He bends me quite low to his crotch, and I want to tell him a few words more about how much I love him, but he doesn't leave me any time. He presses his hand on the back of my head and my gaze slide...

Writing