I couldn't help thinking this is Ray Bradbury from the wrong side of town, what happens to children who don't live in that pure middle-American country idyll that Bradbury made so much his milieu. Childhood fancy struggling through the real shit of American life, the violence, poverty, ignorance that are at least as much American life as that which Bradbury chronicles.
Not only about childhood, but it is a theme.
And throughout it all, the poetic lilt that is Burke's own in the way Bradbury has his. I found myself reading passages out loud - especially conversation - it demanded to be heard as well as looked at. It's been quite a while since I visited Burke's world, but I'm so glad I did.