Today's poem is "Lyric"
from Women's Poetry

University of Pittsburgh Press

Daisy Fried is the author of My Brother Is Getting Arrested Again, a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award, and She Didn’t Mean to Do It, winner of the Agnes Lynch Starrett Poetry Prize. She has received Guggenheim, Hodder, and Pew Fellowships, a Pushcart Prize, and the Cohen Award from Ploughshares. Fried reviews poetry books for the New York Times, Poetry, and the Threepenny Review and was awarded Poetry magazine’s Editor’s Prize. She has taught creative writing at Bryn Mawr College and in Warren Wilson College’s low-residency MFA program. Fried lives in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Other poems by Daisy Fried in Verse Daily:
July 10, 2006:   "Better Read, A Valentine" " Scare, tides & herring. Shift. Sky..."

Books by Daisy Fried:

Other poems on the web by Daisy Fried:
Five poems
"She Didn't Mean to Do It"
"Not Eurydice"
"A Snow Woman"

Daisy Fried's Website.

Daisy Fried According to Wikipedia.

Daisy Fried on Twitter.

About Women's Poetry:

"The poetry of Daisy Fried practices for a for-real poetry vérité; Fried loves the rough, tumbling texture of vernacular impressionism, all the quirks and idiomatic pell-mell of spoken consciousness. Her poetic voice—long-striding, unpretentious, unsentimental—is anchored by a rock-solid, almost rude, recurrent honesty, intimate as a punch in the arm. The result of Fried’s vigorous, forward-rushing style, her passionate and tender social acumen, and her blunt, sensible clarity is a poetry more convincingly in touch with the lived life than almost anyone else’s. I go back to her books over and over."
—Tony Hoagland

"‘I, too, dislike it’. Daisy Fried’s witty take on Women’s Poetry isn’t what you'd expect. This isn’t the grapey communion wine of the sisterhood, but a galling, and galvanic, and gimlet-eyed appraisal of human behavior across a panoply of contexts. To my ear, what Fried does with the American vernacular is matchless: She infuses it with the savage energy that William Carlos Williams was looking for a century ago when he wrote despairingly, ‘We believe that life in America is compact of violence and the shock of immediacy. This is not so. Were it so, there would be a corresponding beauty of the spirit, to bear it witness.’ Here is a woman who strides across a moonlit back lawn to feed feral kittens she has named Raphael, Gabriel, and Lucifer. Such are the revamped angels in the house of women’s poetry. To which I say Amen."
—Ange Mlinko

"‘She was tired of sad modern endings. . . . She narrated things calmly and swiftly,’ Daisy Fried writes, as her steely narration, calm and swift, dismantles our expectations for poetries that address gender, class, motherhood, politics, and poetries. In ‘sourness a kind of joy,’ she asserts, and throughout this stunning collection demonstrates this over and again, most strikingly in the beautiful braidings of ‘Attenti Agli Zingari.’ These poems end as they begin: fiercely, frankly, getting the last word: ‘scomplicated.’"
—Susan Wheeler

"Passionate, nervy (as in ‘you've got a lot of . . . ’), telegraphic, indecorous, chewy, sharply observed, and smart; this is decidedly not Kathie Lee’s America we’re encountering in Daisy Fried’s wonderful new collection. Off come the pink happy goggles and on come the lights. Be unsettled, it’s quite all right. Women’s Poetry is bold, joyfully energetic poetry, and most invigorating, even if you’re a guy."
—August Kleinzahler

"Lyrical, idiosyncratic, electrically gifted, no one writes quite like Daisy Fried, perhaps not even Daisy Fried. The poems come at you with flailing elbows, blurted youthspeak mashed-up with Italianate parlor musings, a unique conjury of angles, rhythms, and rhetorical postures, aswerve, aslant, aflutter, akimbo. This third book extends her range to the long sequence, the epistolary pseudo-poem, and heaven knows what else: don’t think too hard, buy it."
—Campbell McGrath

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