Girls
this is dd (zzz uff) there are tt many limbs why limbs why ts nn limbs why limbs at all why fear ff limbs this isn’t ww where are legs ww legs where are ws why nn why ns instead of hh why xx why tt explain why nn why intent a cause rr all these effects (uff) there’s tt a tt muscle tt (zzz zzz eff) this is dd there are everywhere (.) (.) (.) did it break did it grow handles did the n splinter did the tt chip I know a dd dentist I know a dd etymologist I ww the (.) nn fuzzy ss skin what sic is exactly as big as ht ht htt m
The Narrators
The Girls are not all right
The Frogs are not
all
right
Frog One
(Interior café.)
A chair leg stuck in the churn of pond water
evaporating with us.
It’s really about everything.
(Hopping on right foot.)
An old car rolls in sideways and sinks. It sinks.
Mud is a thing a car isn’t.
Coaxial cables weed the river bed.
(FROGS: Brekekekex-koax-koax.)
Words we can’t get rid of trip up
moveable, for example skin.
One particle moves.
On the other side a toe splinters.
On the other side a word called toe.
Now you have extra. More. Extoe. Exactly.
(Hopping on left foot.)
It’s always about something.
Mud or car or sink or float or water spider
or meniscus or leg or foot or arm or pond.
Be about something. A something worth a word.
A frog. A frog.
A something.
A frog. A frog. Leaps (Plants feet.)
and grows a new toe.
Examine. Extend. Extol.
The Narrators
(Monotone.)
Nothing new. There: one foot encased in a boot, but the other in a slipper. All cafés are the same. All cafés with girls in them knitting and drinking or chewing with their mouths open. The frogs, having lost their way, sit and drink soapy liquids. All the smells and touches and tastes are the same. Nothing is new. Don’t let them mislead you.
Girl Zero
(Tuning fork. Three times between pauses.)
The extra one isn’t a problem so much as a document. It outlines another performance that may or may not happen hourly. (Pause.) Children gather around the limb. I wave all fifteen fingers then enter the café. There are frogs everywhere. They don’t notice me walk in. (Pause.) I order a gin and tonic but glassware always presents a problem. Why I order anything without a handle. (Pause.) I can’t drink the gin and tonic. I have fifteen fingers for waving but none for drinking. (Pause.)
Frog One
(Head down.)
Missing back left leg.
Missing back right leg.
Extra foot growing out of back left leg.
Extra back right leg.
Deformed back left leg.
Unabsorbed tail.
Extra left leg.
Extra and deformed left leg.
One-eyed. Tail unabsorbed.
Missing left leg. Deformed tail.
(Exit.)
Girl One
sing back .ft leg
sing back .ht leg
ex fff rows back .ft leg
ex k right leg
dorm back .ft leg
tadpole t. ever ab
ex .ft leg
mm .ft leg
one-eyed fff ail un.sorb
sing .ft leg form tail
Zzit.
Girls
(In turn.)
You find the way because you have two hands stretched out.
You find the way is not the way but another road you couldn’t have been looking for.
You find the way because you change your name.
You invent the way and there is no real way to speak of.
You find the way because the world was formed in advance of your arrival.
You find the way because you’re feeling lucky.
You find the way because your body aimed for it.
You find the way. There’s nothing mystical about it.
You sit in one spot and forget the way.
You ascribe a way to words and they lead you.
Once you’ve found your way you sit.
Once you’ve found the way. You’ve found the way.
You need a new word for it.
You’ve found the way and the way is a conclusion.
Frogs
Go back to left leg. Stop. There are exactly two. It’s possible you’ve neglected a third. Probable is two thirds. Stop. Are you certain this was always here? Reconstruct the shoddy work youknowwhat. Find data socket. (GIRLS: 57-12-5. Once. Loudly.) Go back. Choose: good leg or bad lead?
Not to distract you but. To distract you. Retract you but. Stability is two legs working together.
It’s exactly
an exact
exit.
GIRLS: When you walk into the room who looks up?
Girl One
(Interior café. Regretful.)
Let’s be honest for a moment. I’ve never enjoyed cafés but last night I drew a picture of this café. It looked absurd. I don’t draw well. I’ve had no training and I’m not naturally gifted. (Muttering.) But I drew this café. Girl Zero draws, so I thought, this is something one number can do as well as another. My café looked all ribs and breasts, legs entwined. No face to speak of. I don’t know how to shade things in and that’s the detail. Who can tell what’s a table and what’s a chair? I started shading tables and chairs. That’s the eating, you know. Puff out the objects. But I don’t have the skills. (Muttering.) If I’m telling the hand to tell the pencil to make a doorknob, and not just any doorknob, but the exact one from this café, then I need to know everything about that doorknob and how it looks in proportion to the room. This room. But right then all I had was the room I was in. And that room didn’t happen to have a doorknob at all. Since we’re being honest, I find doorknobs boring. When I think of them as actual objects I have no sense of their artistic significance. (Muttering.) My brain defaults to other