an old writer and his words

  • TRICKSTER

    “Coyote is always out there waiting, and Coyote is always hungry.”  — Navajo Saying

    Lou Faber

  • FADED MEMORY

    I want to paint O. Henry’s leaf on the wall outside my sister’s window.  She won’t be able to see it for the giant maple that obscures her view.  Even when it drops its leaves a few always cling in the neverland between green and mulch.  And anyway, she says, her neck is always stiff,…

    Lou Faber

  • UNEQUINOX

    A robin is slowly building her nest.  She sits on one of the higher branches of our still winter-naked maple.  She anxiously tucks small twigs, weaving the impenetrable.  Each time I walk beneath she sits up and chides me.  She is an expert in propriety. My lover and I walk down a rutted path, grasses…

    Lou Faber

  • THE FINAL? TRANSCRIPTS OF ENTRIES FROM THE TAPE RECORDED JOURNALS OF YETTA GOLDSTEIN

    ENTRY:    March 23, 1992   Damn David, what was he thinking?  I should be over at Shirley’s playing mah jongh, but no.  Ma, you need some adventure in your life.  Like I need hemorrhoids, I need this.  Schvitzing like a fountain, I’m the queen of Mardi Gras.  Who is he kidding?  I’m a Jewish dishrag…

    Lou Faber

  • THREE MORE TRANSCRIPTS OF ENTRIES FROM THE TAPE RECORDED JOURNALS OF YETTA GOLDSTEIN

    ENTRY:  March 27, 1971 So, finally he’s here.  Nine months, what God, another joke?  Okay, she ate the damned apple, so stick it to the snake.  But what would you know, another man.  For six hours I’m lying there, dying from pain before the shmendrick walks in like some king, smiles at all the cutesy…

    Lou Faber

  • FIRST TRANSCRIPTS FROM THE TAPE RECORDED JOURNALS OF YETTA GOLDSTEIN

    ENTRY:  July 30, 1970 So, is this fakokteh box doing anything?  Hello, HELLO?  Buttons, now I’m a button pusher.  Some kind of secretary now.  Hello?  Oh, hell, if it’s on it’s on and if not that’s Saul’s problem.  So yesterday I tell my Saul, “You wouldn’t believe, we’re pregnant!”  And Saul says, “you mean you’re…

    Lou Faber

  • Hiatus

    It was, simply, the strangest summer of his life. He didn’t go home between semesters, as he agreed he would when his parents agreed to pay for college. Their marriage was quickly unravelling and each frayed thread was a live wire that threatened to burn anyone it touched, and he needed none of that. Years…

    Lou Faber

  • Memory

    We were told the average background color of the universe was turquoise.  She said “that’s because a coyote ripped it from the mountains outside Cerrillos.  But now they say it’s actually a shade of dark beige, drying mud colored.”  It was a glitch in the software, the astronomers said.  The coyote was unmoved. She sits…

    Lou Faber