These poems are intensely personal reflecting the symptoms of the age: anxiety, aimlessness, restive relationships, inadequacy, and they are sometimes bitter, sometimes self-pitying, sometimes effective, often not. Mr. Meyers has a habit of integrating contemporanea into a phrase which results in some jarring similes; ""We live in pain/ The moon's an aspirin."" He's a pessimist without passion but he is capable of producing a lingering image--""the haunted man lies down./ He whitens in a white room."" In these terse mood pieces he berates the horror of the extermination camps of war, society's monsters like Eichmann, the loss of innocence, conformity and attendant impotence. And yet while he mocks a futile self he can still retain a flash of optimism. The Dark Birds show a poet still in search of a style but with the talent to eventually find it.