an old writer and his words

  • NO ENTRY

    . Each night we go off to bedand close the bedroom doorbarring the cat from entryinto our sanctuary, the onlyroom in the house she is notfree to roam at her will.We do this because we are allergic,because she is a cat and cannotbe trusted not to do somethingwe might regret in the morning,because she is…

    Lou Faber

  • TEMPUS, MEH

    As kids we knew that timewasn’t all that important,it was a concept of little meaningexcept that with which we imbued itand all of our senses coulddo things we never imagine.But now, at my age, timehas taken on new meaningas it compresses, andseasons are marked bybarely perceptible changesin temperature and humidity.The factories along the riverare mostly…

    Lou Faber

  • ODE TO THE GODS

    You, who have walked herethrough the ages,who have watcheda million suns swallowedby untiring waves,what is it you expect?There is nothing here for youthe spirits of the old oneshave long since fledour sharpened blades,retreated with the starsinto the hillsthat rise from forest.The animals will cometo you no morefor we have served them upas a sacrifice to…

    Lou Faber

  • DISENG-AGING

    Christ, I have gotten old,and every day it hits home againin ways I wouldn’t have imagined.I mean M*A*S*H beganmore than half a century agoended 40 years ago, and the actorsI imagined as friends are mostly goneor are so old they are unrecognizable.And Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moonrecently turned 50 and it seemsonly yesterday…

    Lou Faber

  • GONE STILL

    Gone21 yearsstill lookingas you did81 years agoin the Morris HarveyCollege yearbookand that is how,and only how,you will everlook to memother. Thatand the tombstoneon which I criedthree years agowhen we metfor the first time.

    Lou Faber

  • PREP SCHOOLING

    They told me I didn’t belongnever would. It was just aboutthe only thing on which we agreed.But, I know, “you pays your money”and all of that, and my moneyhad been paid in fullso there I was and would remainuntil I could make an escape.Don’t get me wrong, despitethe Brooks Brothers uniformsit was only a social…

    Lou Faber

  • VULCAN’S FLAMES

    The ark of hope had sailedalmost empty, their realitywas free falling, their dreamsconsumed in the furnaceof their greed, their arrogance.Time was hanging suspended,they were grasping at the handsof the clock perched now inover the growing abyss.Once they had been gods, orimagined themselves so, nowthey were fuel for Vulcan’s flames.Once they were prophetsof an unbounded, unbridled…

    Lou Faber

  • MISSED MEETING

    On Saturday it will be21 years since I missedthe last chance to meet my mother.If this seems strange to youimagine how it is for me, how itit is to have your mother dieat 82 and you now 70saying you never got to meet.You’ve guessed correctly that Iam an adoptee, but did you knowI waited so…

    Lou Faber

  • AGAIN, AGAIN

    It is the seasonagain.It is always the season,and everythingis now interpretation,relativity rules.Once truthwas absolute,it was notmalleable, fluidseen through a lensno one possesses,only asking faith.Deafnessis an escapeout of its reachand it will bethis way each dayuntil the election.It willagain be the season.Rinse andrepeat.

    Lou Faber

  • SERVED COLD

    We had better hope that naturedoesn’t adopt that old adagethat revenge is a dish best served cold.Come to think of it, perhaps shehis toying with it now by her actionsgiven the climate changes we have wrought,And us always thinking nature wouldsomehow become subservient to us.But you can only defy the lawsof nature for so long,…

    Lou Faber