Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 47 of 58 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

What I Did Today, Part IV

Ron Kolm

So we’re about to be hit by hurricane Irene, alright! And, at the same time, Carl Watson spends the day in an upstate hospital with something akin to colitis – so it goes. Carl is the very person who would give both his ...

Vacation

Sean Flaherty

Vacation It was a hot, long, necessary three days: my wife was eight months pregnant and the pressure was on at work but I had to leave that behind – more than a year had gone by and I hadn’t visited my mother ...

Rich

Michael Aanavi

I’m an old time smugglin’ man, I know just what to do. I sell guns to the Arabs, I sell dynamite to the Jews. —Tim Hardin I first met Rich soon after he and my mother started seeing each other. My mother had come f...

What I Did Today, Part III

Ron Kolm

If you’ve been following this series of posts, you’ll remember that there are four 2,000 word “essays” in each What I Did Today chapbook, and that Dan Waber is the publisher, and that if you want a copy you have to c...

don't read this

D. Scot Miller

friday night, i'm in an underwater ballet kind of mood like when you're a kid at the swimming pool, you sink beneath the surface of the water and pretend you can do everything the water can & i see becky anderson la...

Philip Quinn — Outrageous But Beautiful

Mark McCawley

Whenever anyone asks me who my top transgressive Canadian writers happen to be, Philip Quinn is always at the top of that list. Hamilton-born, Quinn's writing takes the familiar and makes it strange; then takes the strange a...

Fake Shemp vs. Real Shemp

Sir Andre Bemler

The Real Shemp Born Samuel Horwitz, he was nicknamed Shemp because that's what Sam sounded like with his mother's thick Latvian accent. He was one of the original 3 Stooges on vaudeville, along with his younger brothe...

Subway Pome #56: Marcy

Sean Flaherty

On Marcy Avenue, beneath the above-ground subway platform for the Jay, eM, Zee a teenage girl bounces her very large breasts in barely a bra beneath an orange T-shirt a size too small, at Havemeyer, she stops and bounces on...

A Life of Uncontrollable Urges (or Tourette’s and the Writing Life)

Jose Padua

On a recent Sunday afternoon, as I pushed a cart in the aisle between the checkout counters and the racks of men’s shirts at Walmart, the song that went though my head was Brian Eno’s “Here Come the Warm Jets.” Eve...

What I Did Today, Part II

Ron Kolm

It’s been a week or two since I posted the first of four essays from Dan Waber’s What I Did Today Chapbook series (published by chapbookpublisher.com but, as it turns out, not available from them – to get a copy you ha...

My Grandfather, Nobility, and Sour Cream

Michael Aanavi

Whatever you end up doing, love it. The way you loved the projection booth when you were a little squirt. —Alfredo in Cinema Paradiso My mother used to tell me we were descended from Russian princes, that I was royalty...

78 Works by Banksy

Banksy

Banksy works from London and the UK, LA, the West Bank, New York and elsewhere. Washing (Image credits banksy) Stream Roller Warden (Image credits banksy) Maid in London (Image credits canonsnapper) Worthl...

Matt and Mark Enger’s “Streets of Glory” at Christopher Henry Gallery.

Marguerite Van Cook

I first met the identical Enger twins, Mark and Matt at the well-known artist’s bar Max Fish, on the Lower East Side of New York. They were wearing civil war dress that shocked the Northern sensibility, but their rebelliou...

Matthew Firth — My Kinda Suburban Pornographer

Mark McCawley

"A guided tour through an urban menagerie peopled by society's outcasts, truants, and misfits -- adrift in a sea of humanity, putting in time, but cursed from the start. Their only solace found in booze, casual sex, myster...

Literary Outlaws, Bad Asses & Underground Writers

Mark McCawley

“…true Unbearables realize that there is nothing to sell out other than that overstocked warehouse of lost dreams we’ve all been carrying on our backs for so long they’ve taken on the aura of that immortal 5000-po...