an old writer and his words

  • ANOTHER EVENING SPENT

    I wonder if there are priestssitting on beds drinking Diet Cokeand contemplating the meaningof heaven, of sex,of indigestion from a burgerand fries with onionsin a bar, the angelscovering their ears from the dinof four pool tables,of slipping on the spilled Red Rock,while outside the traffic thinsand the neon blinksits message to the gods. First appeared…

    Lou Faber

  • THE EARL WAS WRONG

    I’m not a big fan of butterwhich is why I could neverlive in England unless,and I’m not willing to do it,I became a vegan and thenI could beg off I suppose.Why the English see the needto put a thin layer of iton each slice of breadin a sandwich is beyond me.And don’t get me startedon…

    Lou Faber

  • WITHOUT

    He pretty much hated the outdoorscamping was a wholly alien conceptin parks for places for at besta short visit, a picnic lunchand then back in the car and home.He was not even a fan of the partsin the heart of the city, for theydrew crowds and he did notlike to be around other people.He wanted…

    Lou Faber

  • GOKOKU’S THREE SHAMES

    When you throw a pebbleinto a still pondwhat is it you look for?If you say the ripplesthe pebble has madeI will say there is no pebble.If you point to the pebbleon the bottom of the pondI will say there are no ripples.If you point to the skyyou will have found the way. A reflection on…

    Lou Faber

  • NOMENCLATURE

    We really need to stopnaming new plant varietiesand comets after the peoplewho first discovered them.Think about it for a moment –they didn’t invent anything,they just saw what was already there.So let’s agree on a new ruleshall we, plant varieties willhenceforth be named afterrock bands with at leastone gold record, and cometsafter random lines fromeither Hamlet…

    Lou Faber

  • ON ITS HEAD

    Death has an uncanny knackfor turning normalcy on its head.My mother was never readyat the time my parents had to leaveeither selecting outfitsor jewelry, the right shoes,as my father stood by fidgetingand looking at his watch,knowing better than to say anything.Yet she left without notice,no delays at all, just suddenly goneso unlike her to make…

    Lou Faber

  • I WONDER

    As a poet I would bemost interested in learningwhat you read when youare reading one of my poems. I know it sounds strange, after allI wrote it, but often when I readone of my poems it is differentin small or large waysfrom the last time I read it. I know that each reader in turnrewrites…

    Lou Faber

  • LONE STAR

    I feel like I ought to beliving in Texas againfor everything, they say,is bigger in Texas and youdon’t argue with a Texan. So much in my life is bigger nowa computer monitor that wouldpass for a moderate sized TV,with font so large a single pagefills the screen, and the tabletthe size of, but thank Godnot…

    Lou Faber

  • EPITAPH FOR ANOTHER DAY

    When I write the storyof my life, it will not beme standing by the seastaff in hand, waitingfor the waters to part.It will be sand, endlessseas of sand, piledaround my feet.I will not recount ten plaguesfor there is only onethat matters at alland it was notterribly exciting,no generation perished,we weren’t overrunwith frogs or verminsave the…

    Lou Faber

  • MOON WATCH

    I’m guessing it wasabout 2 AM, I can’t be suresince the only clockin the bedroom was analogand unlighted, visible only by day. I don’t know what woke me,it just seems to happen, but the moonwas peering in between the slatsof closed window blinds. I don’t like being watchedin my sleep, certainly notby some voyeuristic interloperbut…

    Lou Faber