Sensitive Skin Magazine - Page 55 of 62 - art, stories, poetry, essays, reviews and music

A Portrait of America in Trash

Jose Padua

I give to you a portrait of America in trash. I give it to you with love and respect, America: mountains of beer cans crumpled, plastic figures with fallen action, black velvet portraits of Elvis with...

THE RAPTURE: JUST ANOTHER PR HYPE FOR CHRISTIAN GUILT? Or, God’s away on business.

Bonny Finberg

6:30 PM THE END OF THE WORLD -- late by 1/2 hour. God either overslept or isn’t really interested. A pint of cold beer on a rooftop terrace overlooking the canal, uninterrupted. Animated, bare-chested men sit in the s...

Casino in Joliet; or, getting old in the usa

Emily XYZ

This is a piece that first came to me in probably 2003, when I was living in Evanston IL, not too far from Joliet. I heard someone say , "we're going to a casino in Joliet," and it just lit up something in my mind. This is...

AFROSURREAL MANIFESTO: Black is the new black — a 21st century

D. Scot Miller

AFROSURREAL D. Scot Miller I'm not a surrealist. I just paint what I see. — Frida Kahlo THE PAST AND THE PRELUDE In his introduction to the classic novel Invisible Man (1952), ambiguous black and literary icon Ralp...

Democracy in America

Jose Padua

If Connie is short for Constance is Bon- nie then short for Bonstance? Was the proper name, then, of the bank robbing team of the 3...

Strings in the Key of Q

Jane Does

On the subway, someone’s phone begins to ring, or they are watching something on a tiny screen, and a strain of violin music wafts across the seat back and up into my ear. This music, alone, fits; it has a narrative author...

I FEEL STUPID AND CONTAGIOUS

Excerpt from "Kali's Day."

Stella “Hello, Hello, Hello, Hello...pass that, will you?” I fake inhale, not sure what’s supposed to happen now. This wack crowd of question marks, the total opposite of the void, ready to spend the rest of my life ...

Murda Muzik #1 – The Gravediggaz

Michael Gonzales

As a young film buff growing-up in New York back in the days, I first got into movie soundtracks through the James Bond themes. Composed by John Barry and sung by various pop idols (Tom Jones! Shirley Bassey! Paul McCartne...

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...