The Path to Ask

Amy King No punch in the gut. No black then blue. No guessing or “pro” antlers. I look sexy in clothes. Better with someone who knows better. Armed candy tanks, this continent bleeding from the middle umbilical out. Is the horse hooves on camel backs, is the store water stuffed fat. Our floor sweats the… More

Liberation

Amy King With a cigarette smile, he killed the first crime of outlaw: bake your bread on the side you butter. He ate raw, she felt. Be the one your man can stand behind in a gunfight. Put a bullet in the throat that spews fire for your belly. Such was the lightning of life:… More

An Evening with the Clarity

The night of June 20th was a special one for the clarity. 350 people gathered for nearly 4 hours to celebrate beauty and drink good beer. Every performer brought it hard, and the evening became one of emotional intimacy. The small, acoustically capable theater played host to passionate artists who executed their respective talents with… More

Amy King on Bush, Empathy, and the Poet

(A supplement to her poem I Want To Make You Safe) “The costs – a few billion dollars a month plus a few dozen American fatalities (a figure which will probably diminish, and which is in any case comparable to the number of US motorcyclists killed because of repealed helmet laws) – are negligible compared… More