an old writer and his words

  • LIONEL HAMPTON AND THE GOLDEN MEN OF JAZZ

    Blue Note, pardonour constructionblack paintedplasterboarda hangingair conditioning duct. Grady Tatesneering at the skinsgrowling at a high hathands shiftingdeftly reaching inpicking a beatand sliding itover the crowd. Jimmy Woodeblind to the lightsslides his fingersover stringsand talks to the bassresting on his shoulder.It sings backbegging , pleadingdemanding as his headsways with an inner vision. Junior Mancesways slowly…

    Lou Faber

  • CHARLES

    Bukowski, you old satyr when you croaked was there the great American novel locked away in your head. When you pickled yourself was it for fear that the words locked away inside would spew forth like your lunch so many nights as you verged on alcohol poisoning. When you read Burroughs could you picture the…

    Lou Faber

  • GOING

    Mingus             twisting  roiling                 blood of streets        child’s cry                         laughter of old men             s              w…

    Lou Faber