an old writer and his words

  • A MEETING OF THIEVES

    The squirrel on the lawn stood, his little eyes boring into me as I stepped out of the front door. He threw out his chest, and I half expected him to beat on it with his forepaws, a rodent Tarzan. I, of course, had no choice but to stare back at him defiantly, making clear…

    Lou Faber

  • THE LIST

    I am compiling a list, ever so slowly, of places I still want to visit, and you may be surprised to find that Paris, London and Madrid are nowhere to be found. It isn’t that they lack beauty, charm and countless things to see and do, it is simply that they have been usurped by…

    Lou Faber

  • Jack, for Heaven’s Sake

    The truly pious will never get to heaven for they don’t know how to sing or dance. Kerouac roams freely like a rogue elephant unable to get a good buzz on but not for want of trying. He thought it would be Edenic, a garden somewhere between Babylon hanging and the lobby of the Royal…

    Lou Faber

  • ONE OF US? NEVER!

    I now live among birds, and they accept me, listen to me endless complaints, and never demand I cease kvetching. I know they speak about me behind my back, but they are kind, and generally do not remind me of my shortcomings, no doubt certain I am all too well aware of my failings, and…

    Lou Faber

  • HAVING WRITTEN

    I suppose I ought to be glad that no playwright has ever written about me, for that is a fame that always seems to end badly, unless it is a comedy, and that, too, is dangerous ground, for such plays tread heavily for a laugh. Consider Shakespeare, and ask yourself if yo would want to…

    Lou Faber

  • DE GUSTIBUS

    As the last of the wine glasses is put back on the shelf the Brut recorked and the dishes set in the tray to dry we take a slow walk after the meal hoping the arrabiatta sauce will be less angry, the pasta less weighty, when we arrive back home to the sofa and the…

    Lou Faber

  • JOSHU ANSWERS

    Yesterday a small dog, walking its master down the block stopped and stared at you, as you stood on your porch. You stared back at the dog, eyes locked on each other, while the master fidgeted on the sidewalk, afraid or too bored to look at either of you. You realized this was just the…

    Lou Faber

  • YEATS IF ONLY

    Cheever was having a bad day, that much was immediately obvious. Perhaps it was the two martini’s in town before lunch, but he says it only made him giddy. We all know better and by late afternoon his mood has soured completely, his emotions have slipped back into turmoil. He says a few cocktails will…

    Lou Faber

  • VERITÉ

    Only in a French movie does a girl stand on a bridge threatening to jump or not and weave a story that so draws us in that by the end, when the couple is together, she now pulling him from the same brink we almost forget that the movie was in a language neither of…

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE MENU

    The waiter we know so well tells tonight’s server that we are poets and she should ask us to order in iambic pentameter. We write him a limerick, which she delivers with a smile before returning with our wine and a pad to take our order. She seems somewhat sad when our order lacks rhythm…

    Lou Faber