an old writer and his words

  • TO A FATHER, NEVER KNOWN

    You were to be my prophetand you played Jonah one morningby clutching your chest at the sinkand dropping to the floor, dead.You left me to wanderthrough Ninevah, a beggartwice robbed of originground pulled from beneath my feet.Why did you flee your taskthe one for which you were anointed.Couldn’t you see our home laid ruinconsumed by…

    Lou Faber

  • YOU’RE OUT OF HERE

    The gods have ceasedto care about us, toobusy with other more importanttasks like fighting theirpending evictions fromOlympus and Asgard. And the demigods havenever given a damnabout us, always preeningand imagining theirelevation, so we are leftto muddle along and weknow how that has workedthrough history, so wehave turned away, anointedourselves, declared weare holy and built a…

    Lou Faber

  • THE LADDER

    We have anointed ourselvesthe highest of species, ableto assert our dominion over allwhich might be fortunate enoughto fall within our protection. Some say we have eliminatedspecies, but they fail to recognizethat it was simply survivalof the fittest, that Darwinianrules must govern nature’s game. We mourn those gone, but neverpause to consider that basedon the game’s…

    Lou Faber