In the eight years since the publication of an earlier volume of verse, Beginning with Plate, In 1944, Professor Beach has advanced (?) to rather trite consideration of his own and other human's confusions, regressions and insecurities. There seems little in this volume, other than perhaps a recognizable nostalgic backward look to childhood, and a stereotyped reflection of a static society, that says much of anything to the reader- anyhow to this reader. Little of originality of expression or form; almost nothing of beauty.