Sharon Mesmer

Evil Polish Boners I don’t know what it is about spandex suits for wrestling and rowing, but they always seem to create the most evil Polish boners. The Polish boner is a boner that the Polish boner team created ...

Ron Kolm

My Sister is a pastor For a hospice In New Jersey— She’s part of a team That drives up and down The length of the state Helping the dying die. She spends her nights In motels and keeps her files In her car; her...

John S. Hall

April 30, 2012 (or thereabouts), Sensitive Skin celebrated the release of its 8th issue with a mondo reading at the Bowery Poetry Club. Essentially everybody who'd been in the magazine so far was invited, which was too many ...

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...

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 ...

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 ...

Todd Colby

Peace & Good Order Okay dear, whatever you can manage will be propped up in a boat next to you full of apologies and texts from some cabin pumped with nitrous oxide next to the oce...

Mark McCawley

Fortunately, not everyone has to experience the daily life of madness and insanity of a spouse with a severe mental illness. It's akin to watching a portrait you adore manifest into something you no longer know or even recog...

Sean Flaherty

They switched the time of day but every day for one year, Monday through Friday we had seventh grade science with Mr. Stern, after school, Neil Brown and I would tear over to Friendly’s or Burger King in his mom’s Camar...

Sean Flaherty

“Somewhere in her smile she knows That I don’t need no other lover” – from Something by George Harrison Around eight Saturday morning the chilly wet October fog makes it feel earlier than it is, the bus depot ...