an old writer and his words

  • MY JUDAS

    He, the one I called brotherwanted whatever I hadto give, a droit deprimogeniture, and Icould easily be cast aside,a genetic other with claimonly of time, not blood.Why did they concede to himor were they aware?It hardly matters nowfor they are gone, sheto rest with her daughter,he I know not wherefor there was nothingin the text…

    Lou Faber

  • ACT 1

    His life was a collapsing theaterof the absurd and he was holding on tightlybut it was slipping through his fingers.It was not supposed to be this way,this was not the play he envisioned, yethe was here, in a cold table read, andnone of the assembled were certain wherethe evolving script might take them.He had imagined…

    Lou Faber

  • WATCH CAREFULLY

    Stand on the edge of the wetlandas the sun sinks slowly on the horizonand the clouds burn a color that waterdoes not recognize at any other time of day.Watch as the flocks of ibis and egretscircle lazily then suddenly diveat odd angles onto desired percheson the bushes awaiting their arrival.The Great Egret standing tallon the…

    Lou Faber

  • NEVER TWICE

    Buddhism teaches that you can never step into the same river twice. I have not stepped in a river since I was eleven. That day I stepped, my foot found a momentary purchase on a mossy rock. The outcome was predictable. I slipped, cut my thighs, broke my tibia, bruised my elbow. I did heal,…

    Lou Faber