Sensitive Skin Magazine

Sensitive Skin Contributors' 2016 Favorite Books, Movies, TV, Music, Art & Performance

Before we get on to the 2016 Favorites, first things first, I need to get this off my chest: Hey 2016 – go suck a bag of d***s, will ya? OK, and now, without further ado, presented without rhyme or reason, here’s our annual list of books, essays, events, records, openings etc. that helped the Sensitive Skin editors and contributors make it through this annus horribilis (which, of course, is Latin…

A Junkie’s Christmas

Okay, you’re right. I am sitting by a pool in the sub-tropical Florida sun, not too far from West Palm Beach, and it is the middle of August, so hot that just lifting a drink makes you sweat. But this is, I assure you, a story about Christmas. I was thinking of calling it “How the Drag Queen Stole / Saved (?) Christmas,” but settled on the simpler “A Junkie’s Christmas.” Oh, you never thought a…

A Christmas Miracle, Sort Of... a short story by Ron Kolm

It’s a cold morning, two weeks before Christmas, and I’m walking across 57th street on my way to work when I noticed him up ahead, shuffling along the curb — silver hair, blue jacket and white sneakers – not dressed for the weather. I probably wouldn’t have given him a second thought, but he reminded me of someone I knew from the literary scene. As I pulled even, I realized I was mistaken. His…

Three Poems by George Wallace from the book "Shadow of the Slow Decline" w/ photo by Hal Hirshorn

These three poems will appear in George Wallace’s latest book, “Shadow of the Slow Decline” (Blue Light Press, SF Ca), scheduled for release in the spring of 2017.   SHE LIVES IN A LITTLE PLACE OF BOATS Like a house cat put out after dinner like a sailing man with noisy pockets like one of Neptune’s nasty daughters or bicycle chains or mopping water she lives in a little place of boats with a…

The Rise, The Fall, and Rise Again - JC Gonzo reviews the memoir by Brix Smith (of The Fall fame)

‘BRIXTON IS GOD’ proclaimed graffiti scrawled in a boys’ bathroom at Bennington College, discovered by a young Brix (formerly Laura Salenger) who’d just completed her first gig. This prophetic moment for the burgeoning musician and fashionista echoes throughout her years to come. She simultaneously joined the legendary post-punk group The Fall and married the group’s leader, Mark E. Smith, soon…

Once Upon a Time in the East Village, a short story by Jim Feast, about downtown NY in the 90s

Clarissa felt as if she had gone from starving on a diet of bread and water to gorging on a bountiful smorgasbord. In Oblong, where she grew up, any glimmerings of culture were hard to discern. Her one friend in school, a faun-like boy nicknamed Else, would lend her punk and thrasher records, which she could keep for only one afternoon. There was no way she could play them except for the one hour…

The Ballad of Sexual Dependency, Photographs by Nan Goldin @Moma - Review by Franklin Mount

The Ballad of Sexual Dependency, Photographs by Nan Goldin At The Museum of Modern Art, New York, through February 12, 2017 Downtown New York in the late Seventies and early Eighties looms larger than ever in public imagination. We’re bombarded by photo collections in social media, newspaper features, and novels by people who weren’t even born yet, but whose academic writing commands seven-figure…

Killing the Dogs of Kathmandu, an excerpt from Annihilation Songs, a Shakespearean cut-up, by Jason DeBoer

Killing the Dogs of Kathmandu, by Jason DeBoer An excerpt from Annihilation Songs: Three Shakespeare Reintegrations, available now from Stalking Horse Press Editor’s Note: This is one of the more interesting pieces that’s come across our digital transom in some time. While visiting Kathmandu, the author, under the influence of the anti-malaria drug Mefloquine (side effects include hallucinations,…

NEW POST: "The Swimmer," a short story by Liza Béar, co-founder of Bomb magazine

New York, July 1 2016. We’d arranged to meet in the lobby of her hotel, a newfangled glass & steel construction with river views and sports facilities. Seated with chin propped on fist, almost in a Rodin Le Penseur pose, wearing a plaid shirt and cargo shorts, she is there when I arrive, natch, on time. “Extraordinary,” she says, taking off from the straight-back chair like a rocket to reach her…

Dr. B. Said, a prose poem by Larissa Shmailo

As I contemplate my treatment by the psychiatrist J. B. M.D. over a span of twenty years, I recall some of the things the good doctor said and did. Dr. B. of Connecticut, of the upper classes. Who carried bedpans as an intern, therefore understood hard times. Who, like all the upper classes, envied the truly rich. Dr. B. the shrink, with all the constriction that goes with the word. Dr. B. the…

Two Poems by Stephen Berk and a drawing by Tona Hamashige

The Family Tree To all the sons and all the daughters of all the mothers and all the fathers who blessed their children with the demons that drove them to greatness: Happy Mother’s Day Mother, this two-dollar gift card can say not what I can’t, but what I don’t believe. And happy Father’s Day Father, this bottle of wine is for you to drink your pain away. Just as your father did before you and…

The End of The World, a tale of the 80s East Village by Vincent Zangrillo featuring Cookie, Corso and Rockets

New York City—8/8/84—Day to Night Mark wanted to see how fast he could burn through the 10,000 dollar inheritance from Grandpa Dave, who sold schmatta to Hendrix on St Marks, and who despite his gnomic wisdom – Never eat at Katz’s they serve horse meat – What, you want horse meat salami? – did a dry dive out of his 22nd floor co-op window. So Mark’s plan was to burn through the 10 grand and get…

The Large Ladies of Lands' End and L.L. Bean a poem by John Trause, from "Why Sing"

The Large Ladies of Lands’ End and L.L. Bean “I have been heavy and had much selecting.”      –Gertrude Stein, Lifting Belly [1915 – 1917] Because I am not satisfied by the limited palette of men’s clothes especially in turtlenecks; because I want a turtleneck in every shade without limitation and will wear them; because I want a turtleneck, traditional or mock, in every shade available, not just…

A Home on the Plains story by Meg Kaizu photo by Isa Benn

A boundless region extends from the east to west, from the south to north. There are a few trees, dwellings and ranches that stretch out over the horizon. Many travelers drive very fast. This place is nothing more than unwanted space that arbitrarily expands before them. The landscape is hollow and empty under the vacant sky. The glaring sun makes the land dry, desolate. The scenery reminds them…

ANOTHER AUTUMNAL Sometimes I imagine parking lots are water, dark seas no longer dry ground but not either anywhere to drown. Sometimes all the trees in the park are radiant yellow in the end of November twilight, almost gold, unearthly under the moist glowy streetlight. There isn’t red or orange or russet, just that one-colored shimmer of brightness seemingly in flight. Sometimes after the…

Bob Dylan Deserves the Nobel Prize for Literature

Bob Dylan just won the 2016 Nobel Prize for literature. Many are angry. But they’re wrong. He deserves it. Joni Mitchel says Dylan is a fake. But poor Joni also thinks she suffers from an imaginary disease that mostly affects middle-aged white women, so let’s take her critique with a grain of salt. Certainly Dylan is a confabulist-in a radio interview when he was 20, he claimed that he’d been…