Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 45 of 69 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

Punk Photographs

Ruby Ray

In the 1980s, through the early ’90s, I spent an awful lot of time travelling. Or maybe not travelling so much as running away. I was running away from this guy, this crazy guy who wanted to kill me. Finally, I realize...

The Soul of the Doll

Robert C. Hardin

Being the Recollections of a Late Inmate (1931–1946) of the Dalmarnock Asylum for Children in Glasgow, Scotland The eyes were what changed and flayed me above all else—the eyes or, rather, the doll’s eye...

Sick Lazy Fuck

Mark McCawley

“If you look a dog in the eye too intently, it may recite an astounding poem to you. You might have been mad for a long time and have realized it only at that moment.” —Jean Genet, Funeral Rites Si...

Guy Walks into a Bar circa 1997, Hollywood

Karen Lillis

So this guy walks into the bar last Thursday, and he sorta “lets it slip” that he’s Lawnchair Larry. This older guy, you know? He says it to me right before I’m gonna tell him what he owes me for a light draft. I...

Another Green World, A Painting by Justine Frischmann

Justine Frischmann

Another Green World, a painting by Justine Frischmann, from the back cover of Sensitive Skin #8.

Tom McGlynn—New Work, 2008–2012

Tom McGlynn

The term "social sculpture" is most readily identified with the German conceptual artist Josef Beuys, who has said: “an enlarged understanding of art could work and could break through the borders of isolation which th...

Notes from a Woman Soon to Be Divorced

Su Byron

DECEMBER Endless South I woke up and saw that it was winter. There were no birds, etc. Every piece of clothing inside my house was clean. Thank God. I looked into the mirror and saw that my eye was bright and b...

The Battle of Skinner Butte

Ray Jicha

Moving north from San Francisco I slept on the beach near Arcata then made my way to Eugene where I got dropped off around 10:00 p.m. I found a little downtown bar, ordered a draft to pay for the stool and washed down t...

Two Poems

William Lessard

Paul Kelly First time I saw you you were riding a stolen motorcycle down the middle of our baseball field, the cops in hot pursuit. Last time I saw you ...

Some Poems

Les Bridges

Stuck on a Runway Thunderheads loom over Dallas. Stranded planes mill like nervous, 100-ton cattle, blood streaks across silver flanks. 185 strangers and I marinate ...