Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 23 of 72 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

Good Friday Diner

John Greiner

Good Friday Diner The Louisville Slugger has got his eyes on the highway and the motorcycle that is going get him out and up the Hudson I-9 he's just got to go down to Brooklyn and buy it and once it's bought th...

Countercurrent

Meg Kaizu

Countercurrent I ride the subway, Navigate through the maze With my eyes closed. Countercurrent in ancient canal. I recall your smile, The tone of your voice Over and over again. Your words spin in my head...

Barrio Muerto (Defector)

Joel Landmine

Barrio Muerto (Defector) During the poetry reading in the new artisanal soda shop in The Mission on a block that’s had botox, a block I no longer recognize, a man with one leg in madras shorts and a women’s card...

She

Rich Ferguson

She She is an amnesiac moon, a lunatic laundromat robbing me of my quarters. She has tombstone tarot cards; ties my pulse into a hangman’s knot. She is a forever leaving ship; my arms ache from perpetually...

Conception of Love

Tate Swindel

Conception of Love for Leslie Winer Remember when we were younger When it was acceptable to lie down on the sidewalk Our cheeks pressed again...

Last Time

Lynn Alexander

Last Time The last time we parted we were getting into our cars and I remarked how it was such sweet sorrow, and we laughed, already thinking about next time. But that would be our last time and now it’s strange to ...

SKIN HEAD

Michael Rothenberg

SKIN HEAD This planet needs more martyrs Yay martyrs! Sacrificed on the Altar of the Holy Beast For the sake of the Holy Dream! Poet Hang, E. 4th St. Ave. B, 1979, photograph by Philip Pocock Everybody kno...

Attrition

D. Nurkse

Attrition When we were children our teacher explained the war. She drew it on the blackboard until her chalk squealed. The dust of her erasers made us cough. What had she drawn? Rommel’s pincer movements? The oval m...

Brooklyn

Todd Colby

Brooklyn The trees in Brooklyn are the same color as cooked hamburger. I know the song of the cardinal and it goes a little something like this. Pangs twist a belly, until it dawns, eat! The light in early Decemb...

THE SADDEST MAN ON EARTH…

Alan Kaufman

THE SADDEST MAN ON EARTH... ...ignored how the rain felt as he left home for the last time Wore down his boot heels searching for the woman of his dreams, but never understood tha...