an old writer and his words

  • PANDEMIC DREAMS

    What I most want to do now,locked in by something unseen,is to wander the streets of citieshere, Europe, it hardly matters,and find statues whose plaquesare worn away or gone missing,now nameless souls of oncelesser fame meriting a bronzeor of such ego as donatingtheir own image to the town. They are forgotten souls, oftenrightfully so no…

    Lou Faber

  • FORKED TONGUE

    I can’t tell you how longit’s been since I’ve seena snake around here, mostlybecause my sense of timehas limits of a decade. I read that they are plentifulin the Everglades, huntedas an invasive species, whichprobably stands to reasonsince our hatred is by now of Biblical proportions, and wehave learned to love goats,so, it is the…

    Lou Faber

  • HEAVEN, ONLY SLIGHTLY OUT OF REACH

    God is fixed in the firmamentseen as puppet master by somepatrician uncle, small childendlessly shifting blocksin new, transitory universes.All things recede from a point,have since the creationand that point, dimensionlessis God, vast and infinite.It swings lazily, back, fortha needle in its cusp tracinglines in the bed of sandin constant motion as weand earth, and all…

    Lou Faber

  • TESTAMENT

    Christ and his discipleswalk slowly through the lobbyen route to the bar, discussingthe evil of war and blind obedience.They push three tables togetherand slowly drain the pitchersof Bud draft, laughingover the sound of the Karaoke.As the evening draws itselfinto night, he boastsin Aramaic that hehas translated more than halfof the Bhagavat Gita,although he much prefersthe…

    Lou Faber

  • INSTRUCTIONS

    Go into the hills an bring back logs, straight, peel the bark and smooth them satin fibers, the main pole at least eight arms the cross no less than six. Lash them well so they will not yield under the weight of the body where you might hang. Do not speak to the shepherd, he…

    Lou Faber

  • EARLY IN THE SECOND BOOK

    She wrapped him carefully in an old blanket and several sections of the Times and put him in the basket with the broken handle she found out behind the Safeway near the culvert that was home until the rains came. She placed him among the weeds and beer bottles, where the river’s smell licked the…

    Lou Faber

  • HEAVEN CAN WAIT

    He said, “I’m looking forward to heaven for a reason you cannot begin to imagine, and, not that I want to rush my arrival.” She said, “It’s rather audacious to assume you’ll end up there, I place the odds as at best at 50-50 and I’m being generous because I’m still in love with you.”…

    Lou Faber

  • STILL SMALL VOICE

    We listen carefully certain we can hear it if and when it appears. We hear nothing, but we are used to not hearing, but faith is a far more patient than it is given credit for and we have nothing to do in any event, other than to abide an event we cannot predict and…

    Lou Faber

  • AUDIENS CAVE

    I just want you to know that the Old Man set me up, and I’ll admit that, cagey as I am, I never saw it coming. I mean I knew he was capable of anything, but he always adopted this holier than thou persona so why would I imagine He’d do this? And it wasn’t…

    Lou Faber

  • GOD HAS COME, OR NOT

    It is the wet season when the rains wash the village carrying off the detritus of poverty. On the adobe wall of the ancient town hall some villagers say a face appeared one morning. To some it was the face of Christ to others that of an old man a former mayor, perhaps, to most…

    Lou Faber