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When asked to review a work of art created by a Penn State alumnus, a certain amount of trepidation entered my mind. Will this be drivel, lauded simply because the artist graduated from Penn State? What will I write if I don't like it? Luckily for me, Sean Andrews' poetry in The Eleventh Hour set my worried mind to rest and spared me from pounding out an undeservedly ingratiating review. Andrews' collection of more than 80 poems is extremely colloquial. Its beats and rhythms are easy on the mind's teeth, while the loosely ensconced rhymes read like lyrics to noteless melodies. The work of this Reading native revolves around identifiable subjects: his insatiable love for books, his dogging fears about pursuing an uncertain career in writing, and his college experience. The normalcy of Andrews' subject matter keeps his poetry well-grounded in the realm of natural experience, keeping it from floating away into heady poetic waters. This is not to say that every one of his poems is excellent. Some appear to be little more than rough drafts in progress, published before they were mulled over and thoroughly refined. Andrews' anthology spans 10 years' time, some of it harkening back to his freshman year at Penn State. One can sense Andrews maturing in his poetry as he masters his easygoing style. His poems about college are incredibly honest and insightful. He also questions the lasting retention of college education in 'Bookmark,' writing, ' ... books I read to stay awake did not a learned person make.' Andrews' new poetry book is an easy read and well worth the time spent poring over it.