"In these clear forecasts of the recent past, Erik La Prade frees the reader to say an eternal Aloha to his phantom New York, a place everyone thinks they know and own, and its 'remnants of an unenclosed frontier.' All times happen at once here, which is why it takes so long to get across town, and which is also why nothing stays ripped up for long, and everything reverts to the 'lived-in look.' A companionable observer inhabits these poems. Why not stay a while?"--Jordan Davis