Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 49 of 55 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

Beer Mystic Burp #1

bart plantenga

BEER MYSTIC Burp #1: Beyond the 12 Ounces of Craft The Internet and the world at large currently host plenty of hopsonian enthusiasts, beer nuts, pils pushers, literally hundreds of sites like RateBeer and Facebook pages l...

Looking Back at the South Bronx

City Of Strangers

Photo by straatis I've been to the South Bronx, exactly once, in 1991. In those days I used to walk all over the city, into areas that I wouldn't go now. I was young, possibly a little naive (or possibly not) and figur...

TOOLS FOR STALKERS & HATERS: The Honesty Box, Brought 2 U By FB

Bonny Finberg

TOOLS FOR STALKERS & HATERS: The Honesty Box, Brought 2 U By FB Sometimes, while surfing the web, I discover things by accident. Web surfing for me is never something I set out to do on purpose. I don’t sit down at my ...

Paved With Good Intentions

Ron Kolm

We’ve just left Your best friend’s house And so far It’s been a pretty good day. “Hey, I think your buddy Has the hots for me,” I joke. Out of the corner of my eye I see you pop open The glove compartme...

OH MAMA WHY’D I EVER GIVE UP THE CLARINET?

Bonny Finberg

Because all we ever did in Junior High was play Toonerville Trolley and a couple of other lame things that might have been turned into something interesting at a kindergarten version of the Bang On A Can Festival. I liste...

Walk on Gilded Splinters – Alex Trocchi’s State of Revolt

Stewart Home

WALK ON GILDED SPLINTERS: IN MEMORANDUM TO MEMORY 13 APRIL 1969. ALEX TROCCHI'S STATE OF REVOLT AT THE ARTS LAB IN LONDON The mid-sixties poetry extravaganza that posthumously became known as "Wholly Communion" after the ...

Night of The Vampire (part II)

Jonathan Shaw

I saw a dead kid laying in the road tonight, right down the street from the biker clubhouse as I rode out of the Vila. It felt like a bad night there, overcrowded with so many skinny undernourished, faceless ghetto boys m...

A Walk Through the East Village on May Day, 2011

City of Strangers

Went to the East Village Sunday, MayDay, to see if they still have the May Day events in Tompkins Square Park. The events/protests were a big fixture in the early 90's and though I hadn't thought of them in years, I wanted...

Hank the Vampire

J. Boyett

Considering that I'm such a regular guy, it's funny how fortunate I've been in my friends—I belong to a little band that is unusual, both for our numbers (there are about twenty of us who have known each other for years), ...

Night of The Vampire

Jonathan Shaw

Sitting in a yellow corner in the last whorehouse alley on the outskirts of Vila Mimosa waiting for my little blond with the bullet hole under her armpit and ghosts at her back. She told me to meet her here and she appears a...

The Autobiography of My Memory

Jose Padua

The earliest memories I have are a morning when I was four or five in 1962 or 1963, putting on my shoes in our old apartment on “S” Street before going out to play, standing on the cobblestones in Williamsbur...

Professor Sun Ra

Sun Ra

In the Spring of 1971 Herman "Sonny" Blount, aka Sun Ra, was artist-in-residence at the University of Califonia at Berkeley, where he offered a lecture course, variably described as African-American Studies 198, "The Black M...

IMHO, best poem i ever wrote

Emily XYZ

Emily XYZ here w/ my first post to Sensitive Skin blog. Great to be here. I moved back to the east coast Sunday night after 10 years in the midwest. Had just got cats & clothes in from car and was settling in for the ...

The True Story of the Death of Osama Bin Laden

Sir Andre Bemler

We here at Sensitive Skin don't like to delve into politics because, well, really, who gives a shit? But given all the controversy over the death of Osama Bin Laden - was he armed or not? Were we trying to capture him or ...

Don’t Feed the Crackheads

Melissa Febos

Tay Tay was my first friend in Bed Stuy. She stole my money, nearly got me kicked out of my apartment, and ultimately exposed the depth of my self-delusion, but she stuck around. Tay Tay, she was like glue. Let me explain...