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My Brother is Getting Arrested Again
My Brother Is Getting Arrested Again celebrates the contradictions and quandaries of contemporary American life. These subversive, frequently self-mocking narrative poems are by turns funny and serious, book-smart and street-smart, lyrical and colloquial. Set in Philadelphia, Paris and New Jersey, the poems are at ease with sex happiness and sex trouble, girl-talk and grownup married life, genre parody and antiwar politics, family warfare and family love. Unsentimental but full of emotion, Daisy Fried's new collection, a finalist for the 2005 James Laughlin Prize, is unforgettable.
80 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2006
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June 6, 2024Loved every bit of Daisy Fried’s poetry collection except the cover design. She is an instant personal favorite for a few reasons: her voice is not pretentious, doesn’t follow the archetypes of art, and honest in many cases. She offers an exploration of American life, particularly through the lens of female experience. This lens is not constructed but actually felt and really experienced. The title poem, which shares its name with the collection, is a narrative that unfolds against the backdrop of political activism and familial dynamics. It’s about a brother who is pro-pal est ine, gets arrested and rearrested, the family marks him as anti-semi tic but he doesn’t stop to keep on saying, “This is what democracy (American) looks like. The poems of this collection were written before 2006. So, the climate reflects those times. And, strangely I found this book in our local library clearance sale, and I picked her book without a prior research or reservation.
Her poems often reflect on the personal as political, delving into the gender roles and expectations. Fried’s narrative voice is distinctly female, navigating through the societal pressures and the personal relationships that shape her reality. She tries to go somewhere, where traditional narratives are deconstructed, and the fragmentation of experience is prevalent. Her poems reject a singular narrative, instead presenting a collage of moments and perspectives that reflect the disjointed nature of contemporary life.
The poems are deeply embedded in the American context, offering insights into the nation’s culture, politics, and social issues. Fried captures the essence of American life, from the mundane to the profound, painting a picture of a society grappling with its identity and values. She employs a conversational tone that belies the depth of her critique of American society. She is grounded in the everyday yet manage to transcend to touch on freedom, justice, and personal agency. The collection refers to the power of poetry to capture the zeitgeist of an era and to reflect the personal within the political. However, her poetry is distinctly American, not just in its setting but in its engagement with the American ethos. The poems navigate through the landscapes of American cities, the nuances of American speech, complexities , and the inherent contradictions of American politics. The American element in Fried’s work is not just a backdrop but a character in itself, influencing and shaping the experiences of the individuals within her poems.
The female perspective is the most fascinating and central to Fried’s collection. The poems offer a window into the life of a woman who is both observer and participant in the world around her. Fried’s work challenges us to consider the female experience not as a monolith but as a spectrum of emotions, thoughts, and actions that are influenced by the intersection of gender with other identities and experiences.
Her poems often reflect on the personal as political, delving into the gender roles and expectations. Fried’s narrative voice is distinctly female, navigating through the societal pressures and the personal relationships that shape her reality. She tries to go somewhere, where traditional narratives are deconstructed, and the fragmentation of experience is prevalent. Her poems reject a singular narrative, instead presenting a collage of moments and perspectives that reflect the disjointed nature of contemporary life.
The poems are deeply embedded in the American context, offering insights into the nation’s culture, politics, and social issues. Fried captures the essence of American life, from the mundane to the profound, painting a picture of a society grappling with its identity and values. She employs a conversational tone that belies the depth of her critique of American society. She is grounded in the everyday yet manage to transcend to touch on freedom, justice, and personal agency. The collection refers to the power of poetry to capture the zeitgeist of an era and to reflect the personal within the political. However, her poetry is distinctly American, not just in its setting but in its engagement with the American ethos. The poems navigate through the landscapes of American cities, the nuances of American speech, complexities , and the inherent contradictions of American politics. The American element in Fried’s work is not just a backdrop but a character in itself, influencing and shaping the experiences of the individuals within her poems.
The female perspective is the most fascinating and central to Fried’s collection. The poems offer a window into the life of a woman who is both observer and participant in the world around her. Fried’s work challenges us to consider the female experience not as a monolith but as a spectrum of emotions, thoughts, and actions that are influenced by the intersection of gender with other identities and experiences.
July 28, 2019
Daisy Fried: Narrative and Lyric
The poems in Daisy Fried’s collection My Brother is Getting Arrested Again range from narrative, such as “Shooting Kinesha,” which reads like an excerpt from a novel, to lyrical, as exemplified by “Jubilate South Philly: City 14,” a non-linear poem containing numerous evocative images. These characteristic poems are no doubt the impetus for Marilyn Hacker’s observation that “[n]o poem (in this collection) is less than specific, creating its own narrative implying much beyond its margins,” (back cover). In other words, not only do Fried’s poems contain convincing details, but they also effectively hint at the broader context of life – real, gritty, unromantic, and often un-pretty. Fried accomplishes this by paying close attention to such details as dialogue, setting, and the nuances of interpersonal relationships. In “Shooting Kinesha,” for example, Fried expertly illustrates family dynamics through careful choice of dialogue. The poem begins “I hate what I come from” (1), which is spoken by “cousin Shoshana” (1) and provides an immediate tone of familial discontent and self-loathing that bleeds beyond the page and into the reader’s comprehension. The following lines of the poem provide additional specific details about Shoshana describing her as “22, jawing per always, feather earrings tangling / in her light brown hair” (2-3). Shoshana’s checkered past is further revealed in the next several lines and stanzas as the reader is allowed glimpses of Shoshana’s boyfriends, both current and past, and the likely paternity of her daughter, Kinesha. “I want you to meet my boyfriend” (25) Shoshana tells the speaker. “[H]e’s sticking by me. / He says he knew he could when I wouldn’t / dime him out after they caught me with his pot / at the Kingston airport. Kinesha’s his” (26-28). This dialogue provides a clearer glimpse of Shoshana’s character more effectively than an expositional description could convey and further hints at Shoshana’s character beyond the context of the current situation or the boundaries of the poem.
In “Shoot Kinesha,” Fried deftly orchestrates a scene that appears to focus on Shoshana, Shoshana’s daughter, Kenisha, and later on Christina, another cousin, but is very much about the speaker. It is through the speaker’s observation of and interaction with the other characters in the poem that the reader discovers more about the speaker. For example, the poem is peppered with commentary by the speaker that reveals her opinion of her cousins, herself, and even other members of the family whose presence is beyond the “margins” of the poem. Comments like “per always” (2 & 9) suggest impatience and a level of immaturity which often crops up when one is around family. The comment “I always nod at Shoshana, whatever she says” (13) suggests the speaker doesn’t really engage much in her conversations with her cousin, or at least finds it easier to just agree with her. Later, when the speaker conveys that she is “bad with kids” (39) or when she refers to Christina as the “third bad cousin” (44)(of which membership the speaker includes herself) her heightened self-consciousness becomes more apparent. Finally, when the speaker describes her father’s dissatisfaction with her poems or how her husband dislikes her “more and more these days” (88) the reader gets the sense of the speaker’s relationships and even perhaps co-dependence.
This poem, like many of the other narrative poems in the collection, works well because its narrative flow is not overly expository and contains the most appropriate of details and bits of dialogue. If real dialogue from a wedding in which three cousins were visiting were relayed word for word in this poem, it would certainly come across as contrite, boring and unpolished. Fried instead carefully selects and edits until she has chosen the kind of dialogue that will best convey the emotional truth of the scene without cluttering it up with extraneous details such as the color of the bridesmaid dresses. Even the choice to mention “Ode to Joy” is juxtaposed with the speaker twisting her wedding ring lending an air of irony to the moment. As a result, the poem feels authentic and believable.
In addition to deft narrative and careful dialogue, Fried’s use of surprising similes and metaphors, often unflattering, is particularly effective in creating strong, specific images in her poems. Consider the visceral description in the line “I was feeling like the phlegm in my throat” (33) from the poem “Cordless,” which provides a uncomfortable but accurate description of the character’s state of being, or the brilliant “Like a polaroid developing on her Dick Cheney Skin” (16) from “Best of Show” wherein the mention of Dick Cheney somehow makes the already pallid and insipid complexion of the sow more pallid and insipid than a simple description or more expected metaphor could communicate. Lastly, the metaphor of piano keys for black and white socks as described in “Her black socks and her white ones / are littered together over the sofa, / soft strewn piano keys” (1-3) from “Stealing from Lehigh Dairy” is a gratifying description in addition to being unexpected, and delights this reader.
Two images that are repeated in the collection, therefore acting as a kind of thread that connects the poems, is that of sometimes doll, sometimes friend, Ti-Anne, who appears in at least three poems, as well as sun, whose appearance does not always come across as beneficent. For example, in “Sugar” the “Sun blasts / pure light across the big plate glass windows” (8-9) while in “Aunt Leah, Aunt Sophie and the Negro Painter” the “Window sun reflects off / the frame-glass, blots out the fruitbowl” (31-32). In these examples, the sun is less than congenial, either blasting or blotting out details that are important to the speaker. A very surprising description of the sun appear in the last lines of “Go to Your Room” where the “Sun / blasts the curtain open like legs” which may be meant as an erotic description but has a menacing overtone.
In the collection’s more lyric poems, such as “Jubilate South Philly: City 14” or the title poem, “My Brother is Getting Arrested Again,” Fried’s efficacy with repetition is evident. In the former the poet uses the word “For” as anaphoric glue while also thwarting expectations of the anaphora by playing with the word’s function. Consider the line “For will you please not act like you know me” (2), which has a very colloquial and juvenile tone, as compared with “For shall I not be good & sweet” which has a loftier tone. In the latter poem, the poet repeats the phrase “my brother is getting arrested again” to unify its images, at first in a predictable format –every other stanza – then varying the frequency of the repetition, breaking her own pattern.
All of the poems in this collection are tightly written and evocative. The poet uses simple, straightforward language that invites the reader into her work. Additionally, and admirably, she illustrates everyday circumstances convincingly and normalizes dysfunction by revealing that being uncomfortable - and bad and wrong and stupid - are all part of daily life for the average person.
The poems in Daisy Fried’s collection My Brother is Getting Arrested Again range from narrative, such as “Shooting Kinesha,” which reads like an excerpt from a novel, to lyrical, as exemplified by “Jubilate South Philly: City 14,” a non-linear poem containing numerous evocative images. These characteristic poems are no doubt the impetus for Marilyn Hacker’s observation that “[n]o poem (in this collection) is less than specific, creating its own narrative implying much beyond its margins,” (back cover). In other words, not only do Fried’s poems contain convincing details, but they also effectively hint at the broader context of life – real, gritty, unromantic, and often un-pretty. Fried accomplishes this by paying close attention to such details as dialogue, setting, and the nuances of interpersonal relationships. In “Shooting Kinesha,” for example, Fried expertly illustrates family dynamics through careful choice of dialogue. The poem begins “I hate what I come from” (1), which is spoken by “cousin Shoshana” (1) and provides an immediate tone of familial discontent and self-loathing that bleeds beyond the page and into the reader’s comprehension. The following lines of the poem provide additional specific details about Shoshana describing her as “22, jawing per always, feather earrings tangling / in her light brown hair” (2-3). Shoshana’s checkered past is further revealed in the next several lines and stanzas as the reader is allowed glimpses of Shoshana’s boyfriends, both current and past, and the likely paternity of her daughter, Kinesha. “I want you to meet my boyfriend” (25) Shoshana tells the speaker. “[H]e’s sticking by me. / He says he knew he could when I wouldn’t / dime him out after they caught me with his pot / at the Kingston airport. Kinesha’s his” (26-28). This dialogue provides a clearer glimpse of Shoshana’s character more effectively than an expositional description could convey and further hints at Shoshana’s character beyond the context of the current situation or the boundaries of the poem.
In “Shoot Kinesha,” Fried deftly orchestrates a scene that appears to focus on Shoshana, Shoshana’s daughter, Kenisha, and later on Christina, another cousin, but is very much about the speaker. It is through the speaker’s observation of and interaction with the other characters in the poem that the reader discovers more about the speaker. For example, the poem is peppered with commentary by the speaker that reveals her opinion of her cousins, herself, and even other members of the family whose presence is beyond the “margins” of the poem. Comments like “per always” (2 & 9) suggest impatience and a level of immaturity which often crops up when one is around family. The comment “I always nod at Shoshana, whatever she says” (13) suggests the speaker doesn’t really engage much in her conversations with her cousin, or at least finds it easier to just agree with her. Later, when the speaker conveys that she is “bad with kids” (39) or when she refers to Christina as the “third bad cousin” (44)(of which membership the speaker includes herself) her heightened self-consciousness becomes more apparent. Finally, when the speaker describes her father’s dissatisfaction with her poems or how her husband dislikes her “more and more these days” (88) the reader gets the sense of the speaker’s relationships and even perhaps co-dependence.
This poem, like many of the other narrative poems in the collection, works well because its narrative flow is not overly expository and contains the most appropriate of details and bits of dialogue. If real dialogue from a wedding in which three cousins were visiting were relayed word for word in this poem, it would certainly come across as contrite, boring and unpolished. Fried instead carefully selects and edits until she has chosen the kind of dialogue that will best convey the emotional truth of the scene without cluttering it up with extraneous details such as the color of the bridesmaid dresses. Even the choice to mention “Ode to Joy” is juxtaposed with the speaker twisting her wedding ring lending an air of irony to the moment. As a result, the poem feels authentic and believable.
In addition to deft narrative and careful dialogue, Fried’s use of surprising similes and metaphors, often unflattering, is particularly effective in creating strong, specific images in her poems. Consider the visceral description in the line “I was feeling like the phlegm in my throat” (33) from the poem “Cordless,” which provides a uncomfortable but accurate description of the character’s state of being, or the brilliant “Like a polaroid developing on her Dick Cheney Skin” (16) from “Best of Show” wherein the mention of Dick Cheney somehow makes the already pallid and insipid complexion of the sow more pallid and insipid than a simple description or more expected metaphor could communicate. Lastly, the metaphor of piano keys for black and white socks as described in “Her black socks and her white ones / are littered together over the sofa, / soft strewn piano keys” (1-3) from “Stealing from Lehigh Dairy” is a gratifying description in addition to being unexpected, and delights this reader.
Two images that are repeated in the collection, therefore acting as a kind of thread that connects the poems, is that of sometimes doll, sometimes friend, Ti-Anne, who appears in at least three poems, as well as sun, whose appearance does not always come across as beneficent. For example, in “Sugar” the “Sun blasts / pure light across the big plate glass windows” (8-9) while in “Aunt Leah, Aunt Sophie and the Negro Painter” the “Window sun reflects off / the frame-glass, blots out the fruitbowl” (31-32). In these examples, the sun is less than congenial, either blasting or blotting out details that are important to the speaker. A very surprising description of the sun appear in the last lines of “Go to Your Room” where the “Sun / blasts the curtain open like legs” which may be meant as an erotic description but has a menacing overtone.
In the collection’s more lyric poems, such as “Jubilate South Philly: City 14” or the title poem, “My Brother is Getting Arrested Again,” Fried’s efficacy with repetition is evident. In the former the poet uses the word “For” as anaphoric glue while also thwarting expectations of the anaphora by playing with the word’s function. Consider the line “For will you please not act like you know me” (2), which has a very colloquial and juvenile tone, as compared with “For shall I not be good & sweet” which has a loftier tone. In the latter poem, the poet repeats the phrase “my brother is getting arrested again” to unify its images, at first in a predictable format –every other stanza – then varying the frequency of the repetition, breaking her own pattern.
All of the poems in this collection are tightly written and evocative. The poet uses simple, straightforward language that invites the reader into her work. Additionally, and admirably, she illustrates everyday circumstances convincingly and normalizes dysfunction by revealing that being uncomfortable - and bad and wrong and stupid - are all part of daily life for the average person.
October 30, 2009
I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this collection of poems. Very funny and dark. I'm sure I'll get virtually spanked for saying this, but she reminds me of a rough-around-the-edges, punky Sharon Olds, if you can even imagine that. She's getting at all those sore spots, those uncomfortable truths, but she's a lot funnier (and hipper) than Olds.
Plus, I'm a sucker for any poet who references The Modern Lovers.
Plus, I'm a sucker for any poet who references The Modern Lovers.
February 23, 2011
Pedantic, condescending collection from a writer who doesn't seem to recognize her place in the lineage. While the poems are accessible, I felt manipulated and shut-out of the larger themes in the book.
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April 10, 2022Planned to read a volume of poetry every week during National Poetry month. Choosing books I have not yet read from from my shelves of poetry. This was the first. Some 20 years ago, I was on the Com-Po list-serve and always enjoyed reading Daisy Fried's post. I'm pretty sure that's when I bought this book. I was trying to support poets by buying their books but I didn't get around to reading all that I bought.
Marilyn Hacker uses these words to describe the poems in this book: "No poem is less than specific." The details are exquisite and evocative. The poems are narrative and I know that a generation gap prevented me from understanding some of the references and some of the scenes, but it didn't matter. I so enjoyed the language and the pictures Fried paints. What's not to love about "mooing like a Minotaur" or "her eyelid brush has left its own celestial smudge over one brow"? I also enjoyed the poem that ended with surprise twists or improbable images, the best of which was in a poem called "Shooting Kinesha."
Marilyn Hacker uses these words to describe the poems in this book: "No poem is less than specific." The details are exquisite and evocative. The poems are narrative and I know that a generation gap prevented me from understanding some of the references and some of the scenes, but it didn't matter. I so enjoyed the language and the pictures Fried paints. What's not to love about "mooing like a Minotaur" or "her eyelid brush has left its own celestial smudge over one brow"? I also enjoyed the poem that ended with surprise twists or improbable images, the best of which was in a poem called "Shooting Kinesha."
October 4, 2017
Conversational, quietly powerful.
January 20, 2018
3.5-4
October 22, 2012
Why did it take me so long to read this book? I read Daisy Fried's first when it came out, and loved it. I think this time I was put off by the title (and, in fact, the title poem is not one of my favorites)--but the collection as a whole amazed and moved me. Amazed because Daisy Fried's voice is so seemingly casual, yet her poems get to such complicated emotional places. For example, she's the best poet I know of the tangled, sometimes taboo, almost impossible to articulate feelings that arise within marriage. Her language, too, seems low-key at first glance, but razor sharp when you look more closely. Her poems have such ease, yet they're beautifully, carefully put together; their seams never show.
February 1, 2013
The poems are written in the voice of a sharp urban chick, a voice I can relate to. I have been meaning to read this, but somehow skipped over it when it was first published. My favorite poem is still the title poem, one I read many years ago on Poetry Daily and which has definite staying power.
July 12, 2007
I keep trying to like poetry. This was a well reviewed award winner. And it was fine. For poetry.
September 12, 2007
Poetry that, though immediate and heartfelt, just didn't work for me for the most part. Fried has an interesting voice, though, and I'll continue to read her in the future to see where she takes it.
April 16, 2008
smart poems!
October 21, 2008
Not bad...interesting poetry not your everyday run-of-the-mill stuff plus I love the title and the cover...very catchy.
January 16, 2012
I love Daisy Fried. Her poetry is accessible in every sense of the word.
March 17, 2012
Killer poems!
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