an old writer and his words

  • SONNET TO A PORTUGUESE

    You came into my life last week, your nameforever locked away inside her mind.My life, she felt, would never be the sameand therefore left all thought of you behind.You loved her, I suppose, that summer nightthen left her, bearing me, until she turnedme over for adoption, that she mightforget the love that you so quickly…

    Lou Faber

  • MIRAGE?

    Outside the doornestled in the tall grasswhite, a plumegossamer, a giftperhaps from a skyfinally blueor a tearfor the summer’sdeparture,or, perhaps,a promise,down paymenton the freedomfrom gravitylong soughtnever attained.

    Lou Faber

  • HEAVEN, UTAH

    We would sit around the small parkas evening made a hasty retreatto somewhere, anywhere more livelythan Salt Lake City in the heart of summer. We’d pass a jug of whatever wascheapest at the state package store,usuall Gallo this or that, and roll jointswhich made their way around our circle. The cops would drive by every…

    Lou Faber