Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 39 of 78 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

Erasure, The Lotus Eaters, Ulysses*

Larissa Shmailo

BY LORRIES ALONG SIR JOHN ROGERSON’S QUAY past Nichols’ the undertaker’s. Eleven, daresay. Sent his right hand with slow grace over his hair: Where was the chap I saw in that picture somewhere? Ah, in the dead s...

Some of My Friends

Max Blagg

“Some of my friends don’t know who they belong to.” Dipsomanic daytrippers kicking it in small motels on desert mornings dancing a june bug sonata percussive staccato legato flowing smooth and certain as a rive...

Linda

Eddie Woods

LINDA “songs like a practiced whore who turns away from no one but the one who loves her.” --Djuna Barnes How deathly strange it all seems— especially here on the thin edge of passion, ...

Swallow the Evidence

Wanda Phipps

Inspired by The Limits of Control, a film by Jim Jarmusch my mind hops back to the century trees of Cabo de Gata a woman in platinum wig white cowboy hat white trench coat and cowboy boots covered in leopard’s ...

the perfect child

steve dalachinsky

i am a descendant of those that have survived for centuries & my mother wanted me to be the perfect child i am still amazed that people know how to make doors their ingenuity baffles me way beyond that of a beaver & its...

Other Body Parts Are Worthy of Attention

Hal Sirowitz

“My problem is I’m both attracted and repelled by the male organ.” —Diane Keaton, Manhattan I hope you don’t quote me as saying I like your sexual organ, she said. There are better things I�...

Poetry Toys

Sparrow

Yes, there are bobble- head dolls of Poe, but where are the action figures of Auden? Bob Ross, oil on canvas, 24" x 30", 2014 by Samoa Moriki --Sparrow Sensitive Skin 12 av...

Sing This One Back to Me

Bob Holman

Honeybee honeybee deep in the honeytree Do not tell me to suck dry the tips of whip grass Swan sway swan sway Ganges flows all day Would you send me off then to the blasting seas? Tale singer nightingale crooner carousin...

The Doctor, Part 97

Sean Flaherty

The way my fingers fit beginning at the sternum, moving along the rib bones, each time I see the Doctor, each time I leave her office it seems easier to say “I am dying.” Photograph by Jeff Spirer ...

What Friends Say

Pete Simonelli

Jason moved across the floor on his hands and knees, I see him this way constantly, in that scooting motion, making his way to the records lined against the other wall. Dawn is lighting up outside. He says, “You have...