an old writer and his words

  • NO FAREWELLS

    You’ve been gone something liketwenty-two years now, althoughit doesn’t seem all that long to me.It is like I saw you five years agoand even that seems longer than real.They tell me I was fifty whenyou departed but I can’t clearly recallwhat it was like to be fifty.I know I never said goodbye to youand I…

    Lou Faber

  • FORESHADOWING

    In my dream we are sittingin a small Italian restaurant.Just where it is located isnot at all clear, but it doesnot matter in the least.I am peering at you overthe menu, you are simplyreading yours decidingon what you will order.We have been here beforeand I know we will beholding hands acrossthe table once we order.I…

    Lou Faber

  • WITH PEN AND PRAYER

    It all came crashing down. That was the ending he had written, so that was how it would end. And this time he actually liked the ending which was not often the case. He could not remember a time when the ending came to him so naturally. And the ending was always the hardest part.…

    Lou Faber

  • THE POWER

    You tell methat the keyto the universeresides in E.To Einsteinit was simplea point from whichthe universe arisesits final catafalque.How, I ask,can symbolic failurebe critical,what is so specialabout fivewhy ought I carefor the third degreeof a natural scaleI cannot hopeto ascend.Perhaps it isonly your eccentricity.You tell meto refine my visionto consult Eulerbut it is fartoo transcendentalfor…

    Lou Faber

  • AN EMPTY BAG

    I reached into my bag of dreamsand came up emptyI’m not sure what to make of thissince I cannot rememberthe last time I opened the bag.Usually I let them sneak in and outin the night, and some nightsthey avoid me, mostly,but now they shun me by dayand I don’t know howto deal with that so…

    Lou Faber

  • LONGER

    Some may wonder why, lately,it is taking me forever to reada relatively short novel when Inormally read at warp speed.The last time this happenedit was either Calvino’s IfOn A Winter Night . . . orperhaps Michael Ondaatje’sThe English Patient bothof which presented the sameobstacle that I could not clear.With those books and Rulfo’sPedro Paramo I…

    Lou Faber

  • ZERO

    It begana cloudless skyand two dogs runningdown the nearly empty street.It begana sudden heaterupting everywhereblown forwardinto suddenly parched groundunable to look upat the great cloud risingIt begansweeping upwarda new suncasting the oldin a shroudof ancestors.It beganthe vomitinguncontrollablein wavesebbing, neverrecedingIt begantwisted hulksragged monumentsa screamtearing earsmembranes rupturedIt beganwith an ending First Published in Ionosphere, Vol. 1, Issue…

    Lou Faber

  • I PLAY THE FOOL

    On more than one occasion she had characterized him as a loveable fool fit for a Shakespearean comedy. Of course when she said this he bristled. That was the required response to the characterization, else he willingly adopt the role in perpetuity. But deep within himself he knew there was more truth than perhaps even…

    Lou Faber

  • CRANING

    I wait patiently for the wingsto move, as though attachedto a butterfly slowly emergingfrom her too brief chrysalis home.I want to feel the air shiftever so gently as shelifts into a cloudless sky.I want to marvel atthe grace she showsswooping overhead,then alighting once again.But I am no God,no origami masterand so my cranes sitwith their…

    Lou Faber

  • FOR RENE

    “The eternal mystery of the world is its comprehensibility… The fact that it is comprehensible is a miracle.” – Albert Einstein (1936) Cogitodice clatteragainsta cornerof the universe,rolling the bonesof a thousandgenerationsone slidesinto the black holevoida losernextplayerto the lineboxcarsstacked as cordwoodinto the pitrottingthe snakestaresat a halfeaten applehooded eyescloseHawkingpresses keysindicatingchuckling First Published in Ionosphere, Vol. 1, Issue…

    Lou Faber