an old writer and his words

  • SIX FEET UNDER

    I remember the afternoonwas cold and damp, with a persistentdrizzle that escapedthe clustered umbrellas,the sky a blanket slowly sheddingthe water that soaked itas it sat out on the clothesline. I suspect you would haveliked it this way, everyone in attendance,everyone shuffling their feet,wanting to look skyward,knowing they would see onlya dome of black umbrella domes.…

    Lou Faber

  • WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

    My history is like an ill-sewn quilt, odd piecesof parents stitched looselytogether, always ready to comeapart, fade or be thrown away. Perhaps my history ismore like a belovedold pair of jeans, holesappear and are patched,patches wear out and arereplaced, or the hole isjust left, as if it weresomehow a fashion statement. There is little normalwhen…

    Lou Faber

  • SYMMETRY

    There is a certain perfectsymmetry in both lifeand death. We do not rememberthe moment at whichwe were born. We will not rememberthe the moment at whichwe will die. We did not fearthe moment at whichwe were born why then should we fearthe moment at whichwe will die?

    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

  • REINCARNATION

    In my next lifeI want to come backas a Great Blue Heron. I will majesticallystand by a lake, capturingfish, capturing the eyeof all who wander by,pausing in awe and desire. And I will havethe one thing I knowI now lack, that traitthat has escaped mefor far too many years,patience, the abilityto stand and stareuntil the…

    Lou Faber

  • STRANGE BEAUTY

    There is a strange beautyin the slow loss of sight,for there is a progressivetransition, a discoveryof much that went unheard,unfelt, missing in the glareof the need to see, to categorizeand organize, memoriesneatly arranged in an arrayof curated visual files. But without sight what oncewas cast aside as noise isan intricate tapestry of soundand undistracted, you…

    Lou Faber

  • ROBBIE

    He left and we never saw the departure coming. We knew he would leave sooner or later, but not now. We had planned on his visit. We knew he meant he was coming. We knew he might just show up. He traveled on snap decisions. It might be here, it might be Paris or Italy.…

    Lou Faber

  • SENSO-JI

    By hour six, the plane was just a lumbering beast dividing the sky, halfway from God knows where to nowhere special. His body cried for sleep but he knew he had to deny it. That much he had learned from prior trips. For when he landed, made his way painfully slowly into the city, it…

    Lou Faber

  • ROAMING

    It is a sign of advancing ageor increasing love and passionthat I no longer imaginechucking it all and wanderingoff of some unplanned journey. Next flight out please, Idon’t care where it is going,so long as I have money leftfor food and some basic lodging,no baggage besides my carry on. Of course today that wouldland me…

    Lou Faber

  • IN MY BAG

    I carry my pastin a monk’s bagthat rests on my shoulder. In it you will findmy history, or bitsof it, names I havebeen given, given up,memories of childhood,pictures of my parentswho I never knew,aged in my mind fromthe photos in yearbooks,all that I have of them.. I still have roomin my bag, perhapsmore room than…

    Lou Faber