an old writer and his words

  • THE SAINT OF UNCOUNTED NAMES

    A desert again,always a desertand she the saintof uncounted names,her crying eases, nosmile appears for thisMadonna of the coyotes,her orange-orbed eyesshuttered against theslowly retreating sun.Once her tears wateredthe desert sands, mixedwith the blood of a Christnow long forgotten, trans-substantiated into a spiritwe formed in our image,no longer we in his.The Blessed Motherwatches, holding hope,holding space,…

    Lou Faber

  • A SEPTEMBER SKY

    Lie back, I said to her,just stare up that waystare into the skywithout any clear focus.Do you see him now,the hunter with his bowoutstretched, the beltcinched about his waistlocked in his eternal searchfor the prey that would free himfrom his nightly quest.And there, I pointedcan you see the great beargamboling with her childor there a…

    Lou Faber

  • AT FIRST

    The first timeI heard itI knewthat voicecame from a placeI had never visited,would neverbe able to go. It penetrated mereverberatedwithin mea harmonicthat shookme to my core. She reachedand graspedwhat I thoughtI had kept hidden,and as I dancedwith mynew bride,I knew Ettahad led meto loveAt Last.

    Lou Faber

  • WRONG AGAIN

    As a teenager, like somany others of our narrowminded, obsessed gender,I imagined myself a great lothario,girls on the edge of womanhoodlining up for my attention. The absurdity of that dreamwas lost on me and my peers,testosterone drowning it in a seaof hormones, and we were obliviousto the real obstacle alwaysright in front of us, that…

    Lou Faber

  • ONLY ONE LEFT FOOT AFTER ALL

    We took private dance lessons,she already versed in the dance,a natural grace and flow, and Imoving with seemingly fused hips,unsteady, bordering on clumsy. As we went on, it began to cometo me, never graceful, but no longerembarassing to myself nor her,and the teacher said I could bea natural, a kind and gentle lie. At our…

    Lou Faber

  • THE FATES HAVE IT

    It was a chance meeting they thoughtalthough the Fates knew otherwise.Theirs was a subtly planned world,leave no fingerprints, always havean alibi, better still never get caught. It was a short meeting, a briefconversation and an ill-meantpromise to stay in touch, numbersexchanged and as soon forgotten. He never imagined calling,nor did she, but he did calland…

    Lou Faber

  • A WELL REHEARSED SILENCE

    Of course there is something I oughtto say, moments like this require it,it goes without saying, painfully. I practiced lines for hours, rehearsedin my dreams for weeks, knewfor years I’d be rendered mute. My tongue swells, threateningto escape my mouth or take refugedeep within my esophagus. Your silence is only compoundingmy anxiety, how can I,…

    Lou Faber

  • HERE-ISH, NOW-ISH

    In this moment we, the two of us,are here in this precise placeand there are an infinite numberof places we might be.But we want to be here,just here, nowhere else.We are aging, but in this momentwe are exactly the right ageand to be younger or olderwould do nothing for us.When I curl against youas the…

    Lou Faber

  • SPRING

    She says her favorite monthis May, when spring’s gripis tightest, but most of allshe cherishes the rain.She is intimate with the rain,there is a privacy that onlyshe can concede, if she wants.She can take a drop of rainand it is hers alone, she needonly share it with the sky,it is always clean on her tongue.She…

    Lou Faber

  • JACKPOT

    I’m not a gambler,never have been, knowingthe house always had the oddsand every play wasa sucker’s bet for sure.I might kill an houron a business tripto Las Vegas going throughfour dollars at the nickel slots,one play for eachoriginal nickel, winningsset aside for rolling. Twenty-one years agotoday I hit the grand jackpotstanding nervously on the stepsof…

    Lou Faber