an old writer and his words

  • ALBLANY THURSDAY NIGHT

    It is a cheap moteljust off the highway,across from the mallnow almost empty of cars,a room not much biggerthan a bed, a desk anda small nightstand.The diet cola is sweatingdespite the breezeof the air conditioner,the television flickers.I have left a wake up callhoping I arise beforethe jangle of the phone,knowing I will not.Corso lies on…

    Lou Faber

  • HELPLESS

    When night finally concedes,and departs for the horizondragging off my dreamsand pulling its shadow behind itinto a thickening fog, a scrimthat hides the dawn’s arrival,I realize what has been lost.I have tried to grasp dreamsas they recede but it is graspinglimpid mercury that obeys nodirection or request save thatof gravity, and that reluctantly.They will be…

    Lou Faber

  • MISSING

    In my dreamI went for a walk alonga boardwalk but therewas no beach to be seen.I came across a little girlsitting, leaning againstthe railing, forlorn woulddescribe her fairly.I took off one of mygray socks, a black seamacross the toe, stuck iton my hand, nowa sock puppet.She smiled so Igave her the sock.She arose and seemedto…

    Lou Faber

  • GROUND HOLD

    She sits in the middle seat of an oversold DC-9, Carhartt jacket and watch cap pulled tightly over her hair, a blond wisp slipping out the side. She cradles on her lap a tawny brown Stetson with a tooled leather and silver hat band. “It’s never goin’ in an overhead, my fiancee’d go up there…

    Lou Faber

  • JUST STOP

    “The problem,” she said, “the reasonyou cannot sleep through the night,is simple and easily fixed if youonly follow my advice for which,as you know, you are paying dearly.”This was what I had been waitingto hear after so many therapy sessions.I begged her to go on, thinking whatI would do with the money Ihad been spending…

    Lou Faber

  • AROMA

    When I smell the aroma of Nag Champaincense I think of you and I vow to lightsome several times a week.Do not ask why I think of youwith Nag Champa and not cedarwoodfor that will remain a secret,the key to which I do not have.I will burn cedarwood other daysand you will take a seat…

    Lou Faber

  • REFRAMED DREAMS

    In my reframed dreamI am sitting in a smoky bar,bathed in the neon of Roppongi.with the sour smell of Sapporo and Asahiwafting up from the beer-damp floor.I don’t want to be here, wantto be miles and miles from this placein the shadows of Mount Wakakusawalking slowly through Todai-jiin search of something I haveyet to find,…

    Lou Faber

  • ADVICE COLUMN

    As I have aged, I have learnedthat when I need advice and my wifeis not available or chooses not tocomment, I can turn to friendsand relatives who have diedfor their advice is usually quiteon point and needs no interpretation.I have not known them to misleador to suggest what I cannot imaginepossible, for they say and…

    Lou Faber

  • TO BE

    He had wondered what it would be liketo be a Buddha, I mean, he thought, doBuddhas know they are Buddhas ordoes someone have to tell them, andif so, how does that person knowthat this person must be a Buddha?He wasn’t sure he wanted to becomea Buddha since no one could explainwhat possible benefit there would…

    Lou Faber

  • OUT OF REACH

    The Middle East continues to melt downlike an out of control nuclear pileleaving destruction and crushed dreamsscattered about the vast sandscape.I imagine God watching from highup in the heavenly grandstandknowing that so many others are nothere to see the race, only to wait forwhat they hope is the inevitable crash.Once He liked looking on Jerusalemwatching…

    Lou Faber