an old writer and his words

  • THE KEY

    “The key,” he said, “is to imbueyour work with poetic energy.”Those of us still botheringto pay attention at allto that empty husk of a oncewell-regarded, honored poethad no freaking idea whatthe hell he was talking aboutand we guessed he didn’t either.He was an easy A English courseand a few of us imagined ourselvesas successful writers,…

    Lou Faber

  • A VISIT

    I used to say that my birth parents,both dead before I could give them names,her youthful face from yearbooks,come to me now in my dreams.Of course that isn’t true, theydid not come to me in my dreamsdespite my hollow invitationsso I went to them, for they no longertravel very much, preferring to stayin their well-maintained…

    Lou Faber

  • NEWBORN

    When you first pick her upshe is so much smallerthan you had imagined,fitting comfortably into the crookof an elbow, your handunder her knees.She raises a thin armand stares into andthen through youwith navy blue eyesthat you carry awayin your dreams.She is not fragile,that is the wrong wordfor her size beliesa strength she shareswith you, a…

    Lou Faber

  • A FAREWELL VISIT

    My mother no longer visits mein my dreams, actuallyneither does for I’ve had two,the advantage or is itdisadvantage of the adoptee.None of my three fathersever paid a postmortem visit.It complicates things when allI know of my birth mother isfrom a college yearbook photo,but that is how she looked in thosefew visits after I discovered her.The…

    Lou Faber

  • IN THE CITY OF DREAMS

    my demonssink into the abyssof memoryand drownin the hollowbetween her breasts,she touches my armand presses backwe are Siamese fetusesfloating untetheredin the sea of night,I can smell the sweet soapand taste the sweatbeading on hershoulder blades,I brush my fingersacross her thighand cling to sleep. First published in Discretionary Love, June 2023https://www.discretionarylove.com/in-the-city-of-dreams-louis-faber/

    Lou Faber

  • IN DREAMS

    In my youth so many of my dreamsseemed full length novels, on occasionsome were serialized over several nights.That did not last of course andas I aged medicine stepped into keep my pressure in checkand the magical diuretics decidedI could get by with dream novellas,which were certainly preferableto the other option, fabula interrumpirBut I continued to…

    Lou Faber

  • VICARIOUSLY

    I wonder how my life would bedifferent if just once duringmy childhood I had imaginedthere was a ghost under my bedor a skeleton buried in the garden.I read books with thosescenes and I felt deprived.My friends said that I lackedimagination, and I was ableto imagine them fallingvictim to ghosts that inhabitedtheir homes, were carried offby…

    Lou Faber

  • MESA

    This nightin cold moonlightearth rises upclouds float downghosts walk the margin.Old ones singnow shall be thenolder ones still singthen shall be onceto wolf and coyote.In this season of north windssun’s heat barrenspirits rise updreams descendman lies interspersed.Women singwe are bearersmen singwe are sowers. First appeared in Dipity, Vol. 3, April 2023

    Lou Faber

  • CALLING

    As I age, I more willingly accedeto the sirens call of sleepfor as night washes over mepulling up its blanket of starsshe takes me on a voyageto destinations she willnot disclose until our arrival.The journey may be pleasantor the seas of night can beroiling, but her grip is firm.But in her never certain worldage can…

    Lou Faber

  • HOME AGAIN

    You can go home againdespite what the author saidbut home won’t be home anymoreso perhaps the author was right.It used to be a little used beltwaystrangling the already smalldowntown, a sunken dream ofsome city planner with myopia.Now they have filled that inand lined it with apartments;here an array of identical, stacked boxes,the blocks of an…

    Lou Faber