The frank, raw lyrics of Dana Goodyear’s second collection draw on the scenery of Los Angeles—the teenagers, vagrants, pornographers—and the beautiful decay that serves as an insistent reminder to them all. The poems are unsparing but tender, candid but sly, and open to the force of nature on an individual human life. from “Wildfire” We want this. The end to sleeping, the bittersweet arousal, the peeling back, the soft bath in resin, the release. It can’t come quick enough, the hot touch that breaks the crust and lets us go. Hear it now: a crackling, as the woods begin to sing alongside the birds.