A nervous disorder, something
named that in common fowl
would be cause for twisting the
neck. Not breeding stock.
Labeled unfit, you followed
direction. Too fragile is what he
said. They implied. Too weak
for what your own body offered.
Amy Sarig King (A.S. King) has recently returned from Ireland, where she spent twelve years dividing her time between self-sufficiency, teaching literacy to adults, and writing. Her poetry has appeared in Natural Bridge, Mélange, and The Kilkenny Poetry Broadsheet and her fiction, in Washington Square and in upcoming Amarillo Bay and Underground Voices.