an old writer and his words

  • TEN-HUT

    My buddy swore that he couldtell when an officer was approachingsince he could smell them evenwhen they came from behind us.I didn’t buy it, refused to actually,as it was absurd no matter howgood his sense of smell might be.He said that he was part catand cats had terrific senses,smelling being principal among them.Of course I…

    Lou Faber

  • ANTIQUEING

    Mother was an inveterate attendeeat flea markets and Goodwill storesand I would accompany her.She had a knack for antiques, wouldrummage for stereopticon slides,player piano rolls and anything elseshe thought belonged in the family roomshe had taken back to the late 19th century.She scouted the stalls, the darkcorners where Goodwill put thingsthey didn’t think would sell,…

    Lou Faber

  • THE EASE OF FORGETTING

    I have little memory of the manwho was my first adoptive fatherand none of his funeral, two-year-olds,my mother said, should notknow of death at that age.Nor did I attend my grandmother’s,she the mother of my second adoptive fatherbecause 12-year-old shouldn’thave the memory of funerals,according to my mother.I did attend her mother’s funeral,had to because I…

    Lou Faber

  • LOBSTER SHACK

    It squatted on the cornerbacked by an L shaped stripplaza, a grocery store, shoes,pool supplies, a bank, all datedand wholly nondescript.It was a gas station, major brand,four gas pumps, one dieselbut the service bays had been guttedof their large liftsthat oncegave the mechanics accessto the bellies of the metal beastsand now housed two giant tanksand…

    Lou Faber

  • NEWBORN

    When you first pick her upshe is so much smallerthan you had imagined,fitting comfortably into the crookof an elbow, your handunder her knees.She raises a thin armand stares into andthen through youwith navy blue eyesthat you carry awayin your dreams.She is not fragile,that is the wrong wordfor her size beliesa strength she shareswith you, a…

    Lou Faber

  • FIRST LOVE

    The morning that I first loved youwas not the morning of the daythat I first told you that I loved you,fear needed a space to bridgeand an ocean served it well.It was not following the dayI first met you, saw you smile,heard you laugh, or perhapsit was and I didn’t notice.It was not the day…

    Lou Faber

  • CASSIE

    I looked for you last nightwhen the cloud slowly peeled backand the moon reluctantly went dark.Despite my presbyopia I foundyour throne lying in view, emptyand you nowhere to be seen, evenPersius said he never saw you leave.I truly miss you, Cassie and hopeyou will soon return for the starsare diminished by your absence.

    Lou Faber

  • JOSHU’S CYPRESS TREE

    Before the beginningof timewhat time was it?If you cannot answerthis simple koanyour answer is correct.In a drop of dewlies the universeall you must dois join it. A reflection on case 47 of the Book of Equanimity (従容錄, Shōyōroku)

    Lou Faber

  • A FADED PHOTO

    They stood side-by-sideas if frozen, adjacent butnot touching, two dollswhose hands were incapable of movement.They are expressionless, neitherstoic nor smiling as though the photographerwiped their faces free of expression.Grant Wood might have painted them,named his work Lithuanian Gothic.I want so to see the people behindthese facades, but I knowthat in 1934 a photograph wasa production,…

    Lou Faber

  • TICK, TICK

    Ignore what the physicists tell you,for truth defies their neat lawsand time accelerates as you age.Stop and consider that the timeyou have left, however much it is,will, per unit of their measure,grow increasingly shorteruntil, of course, you have none leftand then it will cease to matter.So it is best to get on with living.Put aside…

    Lou Faber