Just down the highway from Connecticut s Gold Coast is the state s rusty underbelly, the wretched, used-up sort of place where you might find Xhenet Aliu s Domesticated Wild Things the reluctant mothers, delinquent dads, and not-quite-feral children, yet dreamers all. These are the children of immigrants who found boarded-up brass mills instead of the gilded streets of America; they re the teenaged girls raised in the fluorescent glow of Greek diners, the middle-aged men with pump trucks and teratomas. These are people who have fled, or who should have. And if they are indeed...