T h e a u d i o f i l e s o f p a r t n e r s I a n d II
( i n i t a l i c s )
F e a t u r i n g ::
Mysterious partner I and the other one.
I : I do not think she is wearing underwear, no
II : get out from under there or
I : What do you think of the couch colors?
What do you think of the floral décor?
II : I need you to stick your hand down the sink
I : I caught you spying on the yard line
II : I felt the mailbox up for
I : mow time, I can’t get grass on these shoes
II : I’m stressed
I : I need petunia
II : baby baby
I : please
II : baby please
I : My toothbrush has your hair
I think I found a hair
II :: I use your toothbrush for my
I :: Insides!
II : for my
I :: insides,
II : A real skin breaker this evening
A real blue on gold lining
I can’t hear you with the t.v on
I : Antibiotics for mother so
Antibiotics for brother
II : I left the dog in the van but I forgot to crack a window
I : I can’t sleep, I
II : can’t breathe
I : I want a garage
II : I want with pretty summer cars
I : I’m generous
II : I play the piano
II : I metaphorically shut door
I : how poetry won’t
II : knock no more
I : It’s raining
II : well, yes, [ PARTNER ONE ] there may have been dancing
I : Quick, what’s your favorite word?
II : pharmaceuticals
Camilla the eternally pregnant chain smoker ,
standing unfortunate angle inspired by the front door she’s never left in her
everything is grey her
house is grey her hair is grey her knees are grey her grass is grey
her / is grey / her grass is grey her knees is
some pickled steep at neighborly sweet / if she’s a bald cat she’s / a bald cat
/ stripped / head /
something crawls way up / 6 veins and a dry patch all the way up / 10 hands
painted red crème and / dug in / for fixture and old wood / if there’s a hand
at the top there’s a shoulder with the skin bunched / there’s a left hip in the
spot where she left it stuck / knuckle bones up in around the cross / stitched
/ folded in around varyinglevels of hanging sound / she believes in
something in / between this piece / her dehydrated meat / she’s not moving
/ she’s been there 20 years / she’s pregnant 20 years / she’s 42 she looks 47
/ everything is grey.
Annie Grizzle writes and eats and lived in Nashville once.