Laurie Price is an expatriate poet, writing these poems from Mexico, New York, Morocco and Spain.  Radio at Night is full of longing [for home?]: ‘I was in the third world / tendering an incline / to venture into’/. The pathway she takes is toward an oblique destination, much like the intricate channels of the souks, mostly abstraction, a stream of koans, poet-word-talk overlapping and linking, and finally it is this veil of language that is the question and the answer. Reading Price mind-bending poems is like listening to the radio at night inside a high fever.