an old writer and his words

  • AFLOAT

    I have taken tofolding my poemsinto little paper boatsand dropping gentlyinto the riverwhere they saildownstream. Many may drownbut some mayreach the lakeor be plucked outand reador discarded. The river is,in the end,my harshestcritic.

    Lou Faber

  • LISTING

    I suppose I shouldmake a list of the thingsI don’t very much like. I’m an optimist so the listwon’t be all that long, thoughit grows the more I think about it. I was going to putmy ex-wife on the listbut she doesn’t like meand I have no feelingsfor her either way. So it’s down toautocrats…

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT WOULD YOU SAY

    I am just wonderingwhat you would sayif you were calledto testify about allthat you had seen,all that had disgusted you,all that you condemnedbut did and saidnothing while it occurred.What would you sayif you had no choicebut truth, no shading,no mincing of words,just the harsh lightand you in a chairin an empty room,a disembodied voiceasking endless…

    Lou Faber

  • PRISONERS

    As we sitin the great metal tubewe imagine ourselvesbirds awaiting the freedomonly the sky offers. The clouds reach downswaddling us and werealize that we haveyet to fledge, likelynever will do so. Peering out the smallwindow, the earth shrinksand grows large again,and as we step out,the birds look at usand feel only pity.

    Lou Faber

  • WE FIND OURSELVES

    We are wholly innocentwe are wracked with guilt.There is nothing we did,but what is there that wedid not do, that we should have done, that wemight have said so it wouldnever have happened, orhappened less, or happeneddespite everything we did? We carry our innocenceas a badge, we wear our guiltas an albatross around our neck,dragging…

    Lou Faber

  • WASHING OUT

    I wrote down the biggestmistakes I made in lifeon the backs of newly fallenmaple leaves, and carried them,a fair number, to the river. I cast them onto the water,some quickly swept up,a few lingering on a fallentree partially dammingthe flow, waiting for this. Most disappeared asthe water approachedthe falls, cascaded overon its way to the…

    Lou Faber

  • CASSANDRA IN FLORIDA

    She is large, and largely immobileand occupies the bench by the roadthat encircles the property like a noose. She does this each day, a crustor more of stale bread tucked awayin a pocket of her always floral housedress that envelopes herand the bench she occupiesas a monarch on her throne. The ibis see her coming…

    Lou Faber

  • EXTINCT

    You want us to believeyou are small, kind creaturessucking hungrily on the teatof democracy. We see you for whoyou really are, parasiteswho would suck the teatdry until democracywithered and died. Some believe you,accept you blindlybut what will they doif you succeed, for likeany invasive specieswhen the host is gonethere is only mourning.

    Lou Faber

  • SHADORMA FOR THE LADY IN THE HARBOR

    She walked in,lit a small candlethen she leftand we watchedas the light grew still strongerlighting freedom’s path.

    Lou Faber

  • PERHAPS, OR NOT

    It is certain that they are coming,and you assume or hope it is for me,but what if they are coming for you? You think that they will not find youbut they know where you are,so where will you try to hide? You think that you will be safe,that they will ignore you, that youcan hide,…

    Lou Faber