I loved Larry as almost everyone did who knew
him, and I love some of his work a good deal.
But this one doesn't strike me as one of the
good ones. An ordinary story in an ordinary
telling, slopping over now and then into senti-
mentality, and the verse indifferent and nearly
tuneless. Pointless line breaks like "she /
had" and "wept / openly" and nothing much going
on in the long prosy lines. And perhaps too
many echoes of Jim Wright. Maybe his untimely
death has cast an aura around his poems, both the
good ones and those that didn't come off, and makes
it hard to judge them. As Borges said,
No hay cosa como la muerte
Para mejorar la gente.