Relevant, vivid, deliciously explicit, Modiano, king of LA's literary scene, time-travels internationally from coffee shops to bars occupying the space between lipstick women sitting alone to intimate portraits of Bukowski and Bela Lugosi. Scenarios seemingly mundane spring from the page, rich, well-paced poems flow somewhere near LA's River, where hospital rain drips, where "sleep is buried in caves inhabited by lemurs," or live in the atomic lunchboxes of Hiroshima. Written in a sparse, frantic clip, both complicated and engaging, this master of the gemstone phrase, "feral cats calling for mates," Modiano's approaches the poem like a thief you don't see coming, calmly, quietly arresting, with verse that burns, electrifies the mind, "hiding inside the flame of a single match, waiting to set fire to your dead body." Pam Ward, author Want Some Get Some, Bad Girls Burn Slow