Everyday, another year goes by with God as big as my own three heads, my three hands clap, surging a heteroglossia I emit with my own six thumbs. In fact I read the entire Internet with one brain, I am completely available, utter access and inaccessible. I am your better stranger, your flesh-filled-doll, I lift your leg and kick the wall through: wrap around me; I cruel you. And wash on down. Please birthday all over this thread, if you can't take the separation. I can't take us apart.
Of her most recent book from Litmus Press, I Want to Make You Safe, John Ashbery described Amy King's poems as bringing "abstractions to brilliant, jagged life, emerging into rather than out of the busyness of living." Safe was one of the Boston Globe's Best Poetry Books of 2011. The Missing Museum is forthcoming in 2014 from Kore Press. King also teaches English & Creative Writing at SUNY Nassau Community College, co-edits Poets for Living Waters, and works with VIDA: Women in Literary Arts.