Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 27 of 58 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

Walking With Difficulty Through the Snow

Anton Yakovlev

1 An old man walked his black dog past a courthouse on his way toward some memory indicator. A faint bouquet barely hidden under his coat, he watched the world with anniversary eyes. They passed a dry steering wheel...

Detroit Punk Photographs

Sue Rynski

My work is about rock and roll, specifically the rock and roll environment(s) I live in, the subculture. In 1977, just after art school, I fell into the art-and-punk Detroit scene with my friends Destroy All Monsters (the ro...

Waiting for the Quake

Marc Olmsted

I. Oakland waiting for the quake American poverty's blanket dirty unwashed a shroud on the street abandoned by wandering drug thirst, while the sane sweep in front of their tents (a new day John will watch it for her ...

The World Is A Beautiful Place

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

The World Is A Beautiful Place - Lawrence Ferlinghetti The world is a beautiful place to be born into if you don't mind happiness not always being so very much fun if you don't mind a touch of hell now and then jus...

Just A Little Bit

Puma Perl

I had to shit on someone to make this money! shrieked Lani, I need you to get me off! Now! Lani had translucent skin and tiny, spidery veins. Usually, I could find a place to hit her but she’d done some serious damage o...

The DEAD MAN

Julius Klein

(Bus routes, train routes, walking patterns and thinking jags) Riding the #22 Clark Street bus north on a fall evening in Chicago, 1978, getting off at the Armitage stop, descending the few stairs to the oval expanse of p...

Foundations

steve dalachinsky

foundation 1 (morandi) who will preserve space / the fullness of emptiness – valid question? the flame of the shell / a warning of roses a kind of soupy meld within the intentional near unseen warp...

October in the Railroad Earth

Jack Kerouac

October in the Railroad Earth is a long, flowing prose poem recounting Jack Kerouac’s memories of his experiences as a “student brakeman” on the Southern Pacific Railroad in California. In his interview with Paris Revi...

Joined at the Hips

bart plantenga

When you hitchhiked back then, before it was redefined as criminal trespass – and dangerous – you could get around OK and once in a while catch a ride with someone you would never have met in your regular life. [Do not t...

Scab Vendor 39 – Sins of the Father

Jonathan Shaw

Jonathan Shaw is a world-traveling outlaw artist, novelist, anti-folk hero and underground philosopher, writing in the literary tradition of Celine, Bukowski, Henry Miller and The Beats. Once widely-known as a legendary tatt...

Three Times Bad Presents the Dirty String Summit

The Editors

Three Times Bad, an Oakland-based alt-roots sextet, aims to channel the powerful energy of dirty stringbands like Uncle Dave Macon, Blue Ridge Highballers, and Mississippi Sheiks who plucked, picked, popped, sawed, and thrum...

Duke and Jill – A Review

Jim Feast

Ron Kolm’s new collection of short stories, Duke and Jill, recounts the adventures of two woebegone, half countercultural, half drugstore-cowboy lowlifes, who shabbily inhabit the 1980s East Village, always one step ahead ...

cicatrix dreaming

David Graves, Justin Clifford Rhody and Jay Kreimer

cicatrix dreaming is video collaboration that began with the moldy & degraded, found 35mm photo slides color slides, restored and curated by Justin Rhody, shown in September of 2015 as a part of his Vernacular Visions series...

Embrace of the Serpent – A Review

Franklin Mount

There is something terribly mythic about journeys down rivers. A trip downriver takes us out of our quotidian life. It strips away the defenses of home, and of terra firma. Combine a journey downriver in the Amazonian jungle...

Babe Ruth’s Last Game

Drew Hubner

Snow is falling on Sedgwick Ave above the Major Deegan highway east of the Harlem River. Barely light with no sun. The snow blankets the sidewalk, slushes in the streets and gutters and swirls through the gray morning air. ...