"You're just a rack of bones covered in a thin layer of fag."
Packing a Musket, by Jerri Blank. When you work from your home and johns call on the phone, you're a call girl. When you walk till you limp and give a cut to a pimp, you're a street whore. When they're begging ya "please," to get down on your knees, near their groinage, 'scusa me, but ya see, don't ya touch where they pee, without coinage.
All right, everybody. For tomorrow, I want you to write a history poem on Hiroshima. But nothing too faggy.