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"The poems in Daisy Fried's first collection of poetry read like tough, urban fables. Formally innovative and thematically challenging, these poems traverse the geography of sex and teenage initiation rights . . . These poems resist being pinned down. They roam the pages in a kind of tight, disruptive free verse." —Ploughshares
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Bulrush
Every damned day I think of my child,
little floating, accidental, couple
cells, couple pretty pretty curls, I put her in
the many-babies river, I kissed her
off, good go, good go go away
from me and not be mine my
little reaching
little fingery
thing.