an old writer and his words

  • APP-LICATION DENIED

    I can still recall my grandmother saying,whenever she thought I should be outsiderather than sitting in my room with a book,that “idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Jewsdid not believe in the devil and that,in any event my hands were engagedin holding the book and turning pages.I…

    Lou Faber

  • NEXT STOP

    It is small, dark and desolate,tucked away in a cornerthat no one wants to visit.They all stop there, as required,but only rarely does anyoneget off and it always seemsa sudden, reluctant decision.Most don’t even peer out the windowswhen it stops there, they averttheir gaze wondering if anyonewill rise to leave, not wantingto be seen looking,…

    Lou Faber

  • WHO WILL VISIT

    Who will visit this daythe inn that is your psyche, whowill extend their stay, whowill check out early perhaps,and who will arrive expectedor just hoping for a place to stayhowever briefly or long as you allow?As the proprietor you can turn away those you don’t wishto entertain even for a day, angerand his kin can…

    Lou Faber

  • FRITTERED AWAY

    This will be a fraught year whenonly questions will aboundand answers will seek shelteraway from our endless dissection.But one question will be answeredand our fate may well hang in the balance,for this is yet another yearwhere we determine whetherthe truths are truly self-evident.For soon enough we will havea new government, whether it isa replay of…

    Lou Faber

  • THE PARK

    He was taking a shortcut across the park. He saw the clouds building, about to bring the long-promised rain. He wasn’t sure why he decided to walk home rather than take the bus as he usually did. He didn’t like to walk, but the doctor had told him he needed to exercise more, and he…

    Lou Faber

  • CONTACT

    When did it become surprisingfor a stranger passing on the sidewalkto offer a nod or even a hello?Perhaps it is a matter of geography,in some states, the warmer ones,it does seem much more common,or perhaps it is a matter more local,common in this neighborhoodnot nearly so much in that one,and downtown it is a complete…

    Lou Faber

  • MEMO TO MEMOIR

    I will recitemy absurdist life,and do so without coercionsave my need to tell it.Imagine a new wave filmin French, perhaps,directed by Dali and youmay approach my truth.If this is beyond you, Idon’t care, do you?In the end it is youthe listener who writesmy story, my life,and I am merelythe pen and paper,the prompt, so pleasehelp…

    Lou Faber

  • WANDERER

    I was too long an Israelite wandering in a desert searchingfor the promised identity, followingon faith and a belief that allwould eventually be revealed.I created images of you, of whoI thought you might be, hiddenfrom all, just a voice in my dreams.I was an Aaron, the loyal siblingnever questioning why I livedin their always slightly…

    Lou Faber

  • THE VEIL OF TIME

    I still search for you behind the veilof time; I cannot look away.I wonder what you saw that night,what you felt in that unexpected,unwanted moment you couldn’t escape.I know I am struggling to reach intoa world I do not yet wish to enter,but all I recall are your eyes, notas they were that night but…

    Lou Faber

  • ARTISTIC SENSE

    Perhaps the moon should learnwhat so many artists know,that it is more enticingif the body is not blatantly displayed.Certainly the fully nude bodydraws the eye, but showing less,a hint of flesh, of thigh or breast,leaves the viewer wanting more.But the moon cannot seem to helpherself, always the slow stripteaseuntil she is fully bare and thenembarrassed…

    Lou Faber