Notes out of the limbo of ""the bin"" or ""the hatch"" where poet and Hudson Review editor Hayden Carruth was confined during the early '50's for ""anxiety psychoneurosis"" (as the attendants called it) or ""an acute perception of evil"" (William James) or, more simply, ""fear of fear."" This long poem was written for the benefit of Carruth's doctors, who nonetheless found electroshock more effective as therapy -- so that the poet had ""forgotten"" this manuscript when it turned up twenty years later. The verse is sometimes effusive, often strained -- ""poor poetry, true. But this is no proper writing room!"" Yet because his story is ""a modern commonplace,"" the portraits of fellow inmates and the whole kindergarten regime of weaving belts and messing with clay and crayons is tragically authentic. And so is his struggle to return -- a painstaking annotation and analysis of the lineage of ""the hurt [that] is love."" A document of confusion and pathos.