an old writer and his words

  • THE LOBBY BAR AT MIDNIGHT

    Ann Arbor a certain diffidenceButte born of three rum CollinsCarmel the Gucci show windowsDuluth darkened, forebodingErie escalator rattleFairbanks a sound coffinGrapevine grand pianoHilo the restaurant emptyIthaca seeking dinersJacksonville by the exit signsKalamazoo conventioneers droolLincoln and slobberMemphis over the ankh necklaceNatchez girl cross leggedOakland engulfed in smokeProvidence the ficus droopsRehoboth in the shade of the barSalem…

    Lou Faber

  • HUP TWO

    We marchedfor hoursgoingnowhere We satswelteringin classroomspretendingto learn Six weekslaterthey told uswe werewarriors Our haircould beginto grow back Heavensave usfrom thisendless war,fromourselves.

    Lou Faber

  • ALIVE IN THE NIGHT

    I walked the cityin the heart of the night,street lights casting the shadowsof ghosts of those long goneto bed, unknowingthat the city has beengiven over to ravening windsthat find no shelter. I step into an alcoveand the fading lightof the flickering bulb overheadurges me to move onlest she bury mein the darkness of her grave.…

    Lou Faber

  • YEARBOOK REFLECTION

    Knowing that mybiological parents’pictures were somewherein the yearbooksI had before meI thought that Iwould search withoutlooking at the names. No one lookedat all like the meI see in the mirrornor the me I amshocked to seein my own yearbook. Yet finding themby name I quicklyrealized that Iwas their amalgama face neitherwould have recognizedno matter howsmall…

    Lou Faber

  • JACKPOT

    I’m not a gambler,never have been, knowingthe house always had the oddsand every play wasa sucker’s bet for sure.I might kill an houron a business tripto Las Vegas going throughfour dollars at the nickel slots,one play for eachoriginal nickel, winningsset aside for rolling. Twenty-one years agotoday I hit the grand jackpotstanding nervously on the stepsof…

    Lou Faber

  • DEEP

    Deep beneath the Arctic icethe whale songs shimmerin the harsh lightof a frozen sun.We strive to hear them,hear nothing, hear onlyour thoughts echoingthrough cavernous memories.With thoughts of what was,what we wish had been,we are ambient noisein a universe whichcradles hope, craves silence.Dolphins dream of dayswhen the sea was theirs,lives lived in a slow paradisea world…

    Lou Faber

  • TREASURES

    I keep in my pocketall the treasures of my family,all of the keepsakes from my mother,and those from my fathergiven to me when they died. I would share them with you,but they are highly personaland would not mean much to onewho never knew my parentsor my step brother, the one with whom I have not…

    Lou Faber

  • PECULIAR?

    I grant you cats can be peculiarbut they have one significantadvantage over all other pets,except maybe hamstersand gerbils, for when youneed someone to talk to,to unload your problems on,to try and wrestle witha thorny issue of public policyor geopolitical intrigueand that night has swallowedeveryone you know, anyoneyou might dare disturbin the hours after midnight,you may…

    Lou Faber

  • FORWARD

    As a child I was quite fondof staring into the futurefor hours on end, whenmy parents told meto get my head out of booksand go outside to play. I never could see muchin my staring, thoughtI was probably myopicbut my parents said Icouldn’t need glasses, theycost far too muchfor someone my age. I realize now,…

    Lou Faber

  • RETIRED

    God sits at his easel, brush in handand thinks about the butterflyalighting on the oak.This man would rather paintthe nightmare of hell, buthe has been cast out andhis memory has grown dim.He remembers being a small childamused by the worm peeringfrom soil in a fresh rain and howwhen he split it, both halveswould slither awayin…

    Lou Faber