Jack Foley

Larry's Eyes

Larry Eigner handed me the following poem and told me that it might make a story. "You write stories," he said, "Why don't you make a story out of it. We'll collaborate." He also told me that the last four lines of the poem were a fiction, that there was no railroad crossing near-by.

so we come out
along the street

movements dog barks
stir up the cats

funny to be knowledgeable

whnever one is

now suppose I write this down
and I don't write it down

            windows
                outlined on walls
                     by street lights
                dim shadow
                  might be from a bush
                     where a car is
                     parked, at the
                          crossing
                            near-by

This is the story I made out of Larry's poem:

Larry looked out the window. It was a warm spring day and the window was wide open. A dog barked.

the tree back

of the house from

the window in

the dark--tossing

around, up

to the sky

huge

as it's always been

is now quiet

by noon

His eyes blinked. He moved his wheelchair closer to the sill. His eyes flow out the window!

so we come out

along the street

movements dog barks
stir up the cats

funny to be knwledgeable

whnever one is

Larry's eyes looked back at the man in the wheelchair who was staring in amazement at them. They were looking at Larry! Funny to be knowledgeable/whnevor one is. Larry watched as his eyes hesitated, uncertain now as to whether they should return to him or move on. They were waiting for a sign from Larry. He made a little gesture with his hand. His eyes understood. They flew off.

Larry thought, "Now suppose I write this down." But he didn't. "And I don't write it down."

windows

outlined on walls

by street lights

dim shadow

might be from a bush

where a car is

parked, at the

crossing

near-by