an old writer and his words

  • MUSEUMS NO MORE

    Travel guides always wantto send me to museums of art,of history, of culture, of science.I appreciate their guidance but Iwould prefer to spend my timevisiting zoos, looking at animalsand ignoring the placardspainfully detailing what I am seeing.I have been to countlessmuseums and while each offeredbeauty and knowledge, eachdemanded that I needed to learn,to interpret, to…

    Lou Faber

  • BENEDICTION

    This is the benedictionI was never given the opportunityto offer, the blessing of a childfor his parents, those who are woveninto his genes, those that cannotbe denied, those without whomthere could be no thought of benediction.I bless the mother who carried meand handed me to the adoption agencyfearing she could not offer methe life she…

    Lou Faber

  • THIS IS NOT: AN APOLOGY

    This is an apology I never wantedor thought I would have to write butnow, my grandchildren, it is necessary. This is not the world I wantedto leave to you, what I had hopedwas a world at peace, a world whereyou could be anything without beingjudged or shunned, where wordshad meaning and books were treasures. Instead…

    Lou Faber

  • A TROIS

    Each night I crawl under the sheetscurled against the woman I loveand beside me slips your ghost.For sixty years you were no morethan a fleeting dream faceless, nameless,an infrequent visitor to my galleryof hopes, desires, and wishes.You never had a face, did Ihave one you could remember beforeI was plucked from you too soon, youlurking…

    Lou Faber

  • SEPARATING

    We sometimes speak of continentspulling apart, land bridges severed,the route taken to get here now gone,no going back, no back to go to.The continent of my youth, myyoung adulthood is gone, recededinto the fog of fading memory, and Iam now a prisoner of sorts on thisnew continent of life, moving evermore quickly to an unavoidable…

    Lou Faber

  • DRY FEET

    My Buddhist teachers saythat you cannot stepinto the same river twice.I am not one for steppinginto rivers at all, havingas a child done so andslipping on a smooth rockfalling and bruising my thigh.It was more of a creekand I should have seenthe slime on the rockbut a child is more interestedin what lies ahead and…

    Lou Faber

  • CONSOLATION PRIZE

    I do not remember the faceof the nurse who carried meaway from you the daythe door to an alien worldwas thrown open for me.Did either of you look closelyor did I become one moremoved slowly downthe obstetric conveyor.I would have liked somelink to my birth, somethingmore than the naked assurancethat it happened and thatthere was…

    Lou Faber

  • ANNIVERSARY

    She reminds me that thisis the anniversaryof my father’s death,and this time I donot pause to wonderwhich one of the threeI have had, but neitherof us knows howmany years it has beensince he died, sinceI got the text frommy once brotherannouncing the death.And neither of usknows where, or if,he is buried.But since my brotherhas told…

    Lou Faber

  • MULTIPLICATION

    If he thought about it at allhe probably thought himself akinto Johnny Appleseed, casting his seedand being fruitful in every sense,but some might say he was moreAttila, a Hun pillaging where he couldthen moving on, his prizes claimedthe emotional wrappings discarded.Of course we can never know whichfor some secrets unless exposeddo follow you to the…

    Lou Faber

  • BONDS

    When she asks me if I remember whenI lost my virginity I have to stopand consider the question beforethe obvious answer appears and I say“according to my birth certificate, Ilost my virginity at 11:31 P,Mat the Washington Children;sMedical Center more than sevendecades ago, although I haveto admit I have no recollectionof the event, nor the…

    Lou Faber