Skins

The Fist and the Carrot

Photo © Icarus Blake

Photo © Icarus Blake

Panhandling on the sidewalk.

–I don’t think we should have sex tonight.
–But you promised me! You said if I didn’t do drugs all day we could have sex.
–I said that. But I changed my mind. I don’t feel well. That slice we ate off the sidewalk… my belly hurts.
–Fuck you! You always do that to me. Always. And now I have to go back to the tunnels and look for a fix. Now that I spent the whole day dealing with cramps. You suck.
–Also we haven’t showered in a week. We stink, really bad. I can smell your breath from here. Like a dirty toilet.
–Let’s go to the shelter. Grab a shower. Maybe clean clothes. Then we can have sex. Maybe a real meal.
-Ah ah ah! Your idea of a real meal is a shelter meal? We in bad shape. Really bad. My head is fuzzy. My ass hurts from sitting on hard floors all day. I think I got fleas, I scratch all night. I can’t sleep no more.
–I still think you sexy.
–You just wanna get laid and you know you can’t get no pussy beside me. Nobody gonna touch you. Nobody. Not even me. –
Then what?
–Let’s go to the rides. Them kids always drop the cotton candy. I need sugar. I’m weak.

At the rides.

–You were right. This good and the color, I like the pink color, makes me laugh. This sugar high, it’s like my brain can think fast. Very fast. Look at that wheel, look how fast it goes. People scream like stupid. Hey, you OK?
–Just thinkin’. Wish the dog was still with us. She loved sweets. Mother fucking pound. She probably missing us like mad.
-She dead by now. Too old for adoption. Probably made her into dog food. Yea. Dog food from dead dogs. That’s what happens.
Shut up! We ate dog food last week. And she not dead. I can feel it. We should brake in into the pound and get her back. She our best friend.
-Like, if we go to the pound looking like this they gonna lock us up with the dogs. Yes. And then we come back as canned food. Us too. Funny.
-Not funny. Scary real. You always on a dark vibe. Now choose: a wheel ride or a burger. No money for both.-
Wheel. No doubt. I got nothing I can puke anyhow.
-Not that wheel. The panoramic one. Slow move.
-That is for fucking lovers holding hands. THAT ONE is gonna make me puke.
-Let’s go. You’ll get what you want.

Sex on the panorama wheel.

-Easy, boy, easy. You hurting me, I’m dry.
–We got little time. I can’t do it. Fuck I can’t do it. I’m too fucking weak. Shit. I hate this. I can’t even jerk off. He dead.
–It’s my lucky night. You not much romance. Look at the city down there. It’s mad beautiful. The bakery’s somewhere there. See where the big H&M neon sign is? Just below. That was the bakery.
-What bakery? Don’t talk about food now. I got no sex and no food either.
-I worked there. I made chocolate cookies. Hundreds a day. I used to lick my fingers all the time. My life was full of sugar. I had a bedroom to sleep in and a boyfriend with a future in skateboarding. He had sponsors and he loved me.
-You hallucinating. It’s the cotton candy. Your brain is like on sugar meth now. This wheel not moving?
–Yea. That was the problem. The uppers we took together. And then I brought some to work. Next thing the cops come to the back and they lock me up. For three fucking tiny blue pills. Oh man! That was it. My life upside down. No recovery. No work. No friends. No family. That was it:

Three fucking tiny blue pills. And I was gone forever. –
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Icarus Blake & Max Power: Editors in Chief
Lora Wiley: Managing Editor
Teo J. Babini: Senior Editor
Greta Pininfarina: Fashion Director
Miko Sala: Art Director
Tiffany Credle: Senior Publishing Editor
Daniel Cardona: Graphic Designer
Luigi Scarcella: Graphic Illustrator
Matt Heidkamp: Editorial Producer and eCommerce Manager
Nancy Cooper: Finance Supervisor
ePublished by Kodezero NYC
Tech Supervision: developing.it

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Contributors to this issue:

Eric Hill/Global Odyssey: False Start
Eric came to the realization that he wanted to spend some extensive time traveling after leaving North America the first time to go down to Peru with a few friends. Growing up he was raised as one of six children in a strict religious home. Growing up with a professor father they traveled extensively within the US, he always said from a young child that, some day, he would visit every country in the world. That first time while traveling abroad, he could see why he never felt comfortable following the religion he grew up with, he realized happiness and truth were not exclusive to the belief system he was raised in. These thoughts and ideas have led him to his current quest, to find that awesome exists in every country. Awesome in the form of happiness, adventure, laughter and the quest for something more.
gowitheric.com

Raoul Beltrame/BalletCollective with Choreographer Troy Schumacher
Italian-french fashion photographer and videographer.
www.raoulbeltrame.com

Katie Heim/If my Vagina was a Gun
Katie Helm wrote and preformed this poem at the Texas capitol in protest of SB 1, a law that would restrict abortions after twenty weeks and close all but five clinics in the entire state.
twitter.com/katieh1022

Thor Benson/Toxic Sex Poetry
Thor Benson is a traveling writer currently based in Portland, Oregon. Benson has been featured in literary journals across the country, including: Black Heart Magazine, Empirical Magazine, The Conium Review, FictionBrigade, and more. He is also a freelance journalist for publications like Vice Magazine, Examiner.com, and DailyKos. Benson can be found at a run-down whiskey bar.
thorbenson@gmail.com

Maurizio Bacci/Beyond the Shallows
-Italian photographer, born and raised in Milano.
-Fashion photographer in Italy and the US, published in Magazines such as: W Magazine, Vogue, L’uomo Vogue, and Harper’s Bazaar.
-Moved to New York City in 1994 and opened Babaldi Photography.
-Specializes in professional headshots for actors, model portfolios, fashion and commercial print work.
mm@babaldi.com

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