an old writer and his words

  • MINDFUL(L)

    The Buddha said that any task you doif done mindfully is a sort of meditation.We assume he said it, we’ve been toldhe did, but no one I know was anywherenear that bodhi tree, so we take it on faith.When it comes to things like choppinglarge quantities of onions, or roastingcoffee beans I totally get it,…

    Lou Faber

  • JE SAIS QUOI

    I admit I am an odd duck, odder for not being a duck at all. But the expression has a certain je ne sais quoi to it, as does that expression and I am all about language. All that is a long round about way of acknowledging that I have always wanted to use the…

    Lou Faber

  • WIEN

    We were walking around Vienna, Wien,the river cruise boat arriving early, dropped off into the city center, toldwe had precisely two hours to wander,or we’d make our own way back,and risk missing lunch and the formal tour. We wandered, following instructions,looking in vain for a café where wecould get an Austrian cappuccino, and perhapsa pastry…

    Lou Faber

  • SATURDAY, OF COURSE

    On a quiet Sunday morning, my cappuccinoin equal measures gone and cooling, Ipaused to consider the mug on the tableadjacent to mine, alone, uncared about. It stared back at me, from its perchon the coaster pedestal on which ithad been placed so carefully, a bevyof faces holding my eye trying to tell me what? It…

    Lou Faber

  • SONGWRITER

    Bob Dylan is, to the best of my knowledge,the only songwriter to successfully rhymeoutrageous and contagious, which doesn’texplain why I knew I could never bea successful songwriter in this life. The explanation is far simpler, it was whenLeonard Cohen served me tea and apricots,said he hated the river even living in Montrealand said I should…

    Lou Faber

  • WINDOW VIEW

    He knew she had a specialmeaning for him the first timehe saw her, from his usual seatby the window in the diner, waitingfor his bagel and cream cheese, and she at the table alongthe window of the Starbucks acrossthe street, which might as wellhave been an ocean, so unlikelywas either to make a crossing. By…

    Lou Faber

  • SONNETS AND SALADS

    I would love to know the precise momentwhen the consensus of critics reachedthe tipping point, that lettuce wasno longer a green, but some lesser vegetable. That would be around the time thatArugula and romaine declared themselvessomething other than lettuce, leavingiceberg and Bibb as produce outcastswhile spinach, kale and chard openly declared their superiority over allof…

    Lou Faber

  • SIPPING

    I spent much of the afternoon tryingto imagine you, spending a small partof an afternoon reading this poem. I have no clear picture of where you are,but the chair is well cushioned, andyou sit deeply in it, a glass of some amber liquid on the glass and metalend table, just within arm’s reach.I suppose, since…

    Lou Faber

  • LATTE

    At the coffee shop they chatter as if in some foreign tongue, conversations overlaid one on another on another, until all I can strain are snippets of words, stray syllables. This is true everywhere I have visited, and it promises good coffee, for I have found that when I can easily eavesdrop on others at…

    Lou Faber

  • PARTY

    In my dreams I am invitedto an almost endless cycleof parties where I always fit inand share attention as I give it. It’s different in my day life, whereI draw only the occasional invitation,and then usually as the plus one,and I am expert at finding corners, where I can be observer, notobserved, and need not…

    Lou Faber