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	<title>Jeff Friedman - Poet</title>
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		<title>Flurry</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2012/01/16/flurry/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2012/01/16/flurry/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Jan 2012 00:38:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jeff friedman</dc:creator>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/?p=317</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Flurry My lover and I disagreed about where to keep the baby. She flew into a flurry of snow. “Enough already,” I said. In the other room, the baby cried. The snow melted in my hair and on my forehead, drops running down my face. The snow was sticking to the floor. “I want the [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Horse</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2012/01/16/horse/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Jan 2012 00:33:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jeff friedman</dc:creator>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/?p=313</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Horse Give me a horse, he said, so we gave him a horse; only now he needed a paddock so he could parade the horse, so we gave him a paddock; only now he needed a saddle, so we gave him a saddle; only now he needed a leg up, so we lifted him by [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Review: Deborah Schoeneman on Working In Flour</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/07/03/review-deborah-schoeneman-on-working-in-flour/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/07/03/review-deborah-schoeneman-on-working-in-flour/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 03 Jul 2011 15:50:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sukie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[reviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA["Working in Flour"]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/?p=245</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[How does hope survive the vicissitudes of life? Jeff Friedman’s ability to laugh and cry at the same time resonates deeply. These poems are celebratory and comic parables of fully embracing a complex, often mysterious existence, an embrace full of identification for Jewish and non-Jewish readers alike. The criteria for such an approach is a [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Review: William Doreski, on Black Threads</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/07/03/review-william-doreski-on-black-threads/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/07/03/review-william-doreski-on-black-threads/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 03 Jul 2011 15:29:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sukie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[reviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA["Black Threads"]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/?p=239</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[“Truth or Death?”, the question asked at the end of “The Golem in the Suburbs,” could be the framing motto of Jeff Friedman’s fourth collection. The problem of negotiating between imaginative truth and autobiographical truth—one endowed with the immediacy and power of life, the other death-haunted—defines these poems. “Crow,” the concluding poem, acknowledges the hold [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Review: Ilya Kaminsky on Working in Flour</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/07/03/review-ilya-kaminsky-on-working-in-flour/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/07/03/review-ilya-kaminsky-on-working-in-flour/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 03 Jul 2011 15:24:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sukie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[reviews]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA["Working in Flour"]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/?p=236</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[In the time when overt irony over-takes contemporary literature to the point that one thinks of Seinfeld when opening one poetry book after another, it is a real delight to read a voice like Jeff Friedman’s which offers a great deal more than just irony for irony’s sake. Friedman aims to give us tragic comedy; [...]]]></description>
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		<title>A Night with Bonita</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/02/27/a-night-with-bonita/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/02/27/a-night-with-bonita/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Feb 2011 03:37:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sukie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[mini-stories]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[works]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://test.sukimon.com/friedman/?p=203</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[After Taylor Corliss slept with Bonita Hernandez, his pleasure was so great he fell into a coma. I knew thousands of men and women who wanted to sleep with Bonita, myself included. What did Taylor have? I wondered. What magic? He lay in a hospital bed at St. Mary’s for months until Bonita raised him [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Wheels on Fire</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/02/27/wheels-on-fire/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/02/27/wheels-on-fire/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Feb 2011 03:36:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sukie</dc:creator>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://test.sukimon.com/friedman/?p=201</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[“Make it go away,” she said. I kissed her forehead, her skin clammy. I turned over my hat, pulling out a thousand silk scarves, all different colors, and tossing them in the air, where they floated. Out of the hat flew a white dove, landing on Julia’s lap. She lifted it toward her face, barely [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Family</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/02/27/family/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/02/27/family/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Feb 2011 03:36:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>sukie</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[mini-stories]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://test.sukimon.com/friedman/?p=199</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[“It’s the end of the world,” my father proclaimed at the breakfast table, rising in his bear-checked pajamas. “Not again,” my mother replied, emptying the scraps on the plates into the garbage and putting the dishes into the dishwasher. He had that look in his eyes, and he had been up all night reading the [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Working in Flour</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/01/10/working-in-flour/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/01/10/working-in-flour/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 10 Jan 2011 06:54:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jeff friedman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[poems]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[works]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA["Working in Flour"]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://localhost/friedman/?p=33</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[(from Working in Flour) When I walked into the bakery at my usual time asking politely for two marble cookies, a fudgy chocolate drop rising from the chocolate swirls, Ida Kaminsky, who came from strong Russian stock— a hearty vegetable stew, spicy meats rolled in cooked cabbage—winked and asked if I wanted a job. She [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Phaeton</title>
		<link>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/01/10/phaeton/</link>
		<comments>http://www.poetjefffriedman.com/2011/01/10/phaeton/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 10 Jan 2011 06:53:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jeff friedman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[poems]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://localhost/friedman/?p=30</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[(from Working in Flour) History tells the story again and again. Horses buck. A chariot runs wild, reins ripped from the son’s grasp. Missiles fall. Below, seeds blow through armored bellies. A rainbow floats south in the tarry ooze. The mangled armies clash in the dust. Villages collapse into sinkholes. Families lie under debris. The [...]]]></description>
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