an old writer and his words

  • WORDS, WORDS, WORDS

    My mother surrouned mewith books, “read, read”she would endlessly say. And if I had a question,“Look it up, it’s why webought the encyclopedia.” I became a voracious reader,skilled at finding answers,never stopping to think. Now, years later, I knowwhy I had to read, whyI had to look things up. What she never said, butwhat she…

    Lou Faber

  • I WAS, BACK THEN

    Fifteen years ago, I tell them,I was invincible, nothing bothered me,nothing held me back and eventhe few surgeries were shortrest stops on a runner’s highway. I knew it would last forever, Iknew I was kidding myself. Now, aging, I am held togetherby titanium and injections,trying to fall apart withas much grace as possible. My little…

    Lou Faber

  • LACKLAND

    They marched us to the middleof nowhere, sweat running downour backs, our olive drab uniformsnow three shades darker. They handed us a rifle, an M-16they told us in class, with a 5.56round, it would tumble afterit hit its target, good for killing. We lay on the ground, shoulderedthe weapon, aimed it at thetarget, a bottomless…

    Lou Faber

  • WRONG AGAIN

    As a teenager, like somany others of our narrowminded, obsessed gender,I imagined myself a great lothario,girls on the edge of womanhoodlining up for my attention. The absurdity of that dreamwas lost on me and my peers,testosterone drowning it in a seaof hormones, and we were obliviousto the real obstacle alwaysright in front of us, that…

    Lou Faber

  • POLISH

    Mother made a point of remindingme to polish my shoes, she saiduntidy shoes are the markof a poor man, one to be avoided. I noticed she never wore shoesthat needed polish, never had waxand brush in hand, and when her shoesshowed wear they were replaced. I learned early not to talk backto her, the penalty…

    Lou Faber

  • SUNDAY MORNING

    Every Sunday morning my parents,usually my father at mother’s directionwould drive me the four blocksto attend Sunday school. I could easily have walked, a longblock and a half by cutting through yards,but they were afraid of I haveabsolutely no idea what. My friends that weren’t there with mewere probably in church soit wasn’t like I…

    Lou Faber

  • THEN

    A bicyclered Schwinnrust encirclingstem andheadset. Baseball cardsclippedto frameengagingturning spokesimagined motorspeeding downbuckling sidewalk. Skinned kneesbloody,wheel rimslightly bent,wishing suddenlyfor winter.

    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

  • KP

    My younger step-siblings had it easyonce our father made seriouis money,for then my mother decided we neededa live in housekeeper, one whocould cook, clean and take careof all those things domestic. So my siblings had only to puttheir dishes near the sink,their laundry down the chute,and keep their rooms marginally tidy. I had missed most…

    Lou Faber

  • YOU ARE INVITED

    I have to compliment you,after all you ignored mefor four years in high school,condemned me to the outcasts,the geeks, the losers, the barelytolerated and then only whenthe Headmaster was watching. I didn’t go to your parties,no one without an invitationever dared, was left to theclubs no one wanted to join,but I have to say I…

    Lou Faber