Maybe Bock is the Sex Pistols of fiction writing and he's invented a new genre. Or maybe neither Bock nor the Sex Pistols invented anything and they're just dragging us down. In any event, if you're a runaway, a homeless person, a "fringe dweller", or intend to become one, you might relate to this. Doubt it, but anything's possible. If you aren't in the foregoing group, it is unlikely you'll enjoy meeting or hearing about these characters. It also is unlikely that you'll enjoy the thesaurisian descriptions of every minute detail of every thought of every uninteresting and unlikeable street urchin, exotic dancer, comic book ilustrator, pedophile, etc. Although not every sentence includes at least two, sometimes three similes, many many did, like a book written by an english major near completion of his sophomore year, like a winged bird taking flight from doldrums of his confinement, like a river winding gently (moderately/softly/prettily/slowly/sweetly) to the plain.