Experimental modern poetry, blank verse, a poem dealing with a woman's impressions as she spends the day alone in the city, after leaving her husband. It has recognizable Eliot traits, obscurantism, a certain turgid quality which the piling up of words conveys. But it has certain effective passages. Hard to place, this esoteric stuff from the new school of verse. It is a groping for new verse forms, a seeking for a new poetic medium. Limited audience.