Daisy Fried

Nation Poetry

The Broken Bell The Broken Bell

I like, winter nights, to find in a heat lamp That beats and fumes, old memories Rising in the banging Of church bells through snow spray. Blessed be the bell of liberty That, anci…

May 4, 2021 / Books & the Arts / Daisy Fried

Women’s Poetry Women’s Poetry

I, too, dislike it. However,        I was trying to not think when out of the gaping wound of the car-detailing garage (smells like metallic sex) came a Nissan GT-R fitted with an oversized spoiler. Backing out sounded like clearing the throat of god. A gold snake zizzed around the license plate. Sunburst hubcaps, fancy undercarriage installation casting a pool of violet light on the pocked pavement of gum blots. Was it this that filled me with desire?

Jun 3, 2009 / Books & the Arts / Daisy Fried