by Frances Gapper Chris Charles A Skeleton Triptych 1. A skeleton who doesn’t have a partner lies down on the beach next to a jellyfish and whistles an empty-chested sigh. “Food became hard to digest, so I stopped eating.” “Lucky me, I have only one orifice,” says the jellyfish. “Stuff in, waste out.” But its polite pipe is drowned by the skeleton’s clatter-chatter: “My idol, whose name I don’t recall. Her grave is awkwardly situated, on a hill. She’s taking her time decaying