March 26th the skin sinks into cavities I was right; Bony Joanie is a believer. Of course, she has the name because a life of violation has left her with little more than a vague skeletal structure and just enough tissue to be of momentary use. Beneath the grey, grimy tank top her shoulder blades are clipped wings. Her torso is a paper lantern of ribs and sallow skin. We sat up against an old computer repair shop. The large display window had been boarded up and someone had spray-painted “ite maledicte in ignes aeternum” over the particleboard. It makes me smile every time I see it.
