an old writer and his words

  • GRANDMOTHER’S RULES

    My grandmother covered allher upholstered furniture in plasticthat stuck to your bare skin in summerand was always cold in winter.She said she did not wantto get the fabric stained, thatpeople could be easily cleanedjust like plastic slipcovers.I asked her why she did notcover the rug, an off-white plush,in plastic and she chuckled,“because, grandson, crumbsneed a…

    Lou Faber

  • CATALOG

    The cat is a fastidious clerk,aware of all new items as they arriveand cataloging them as soonas they are placed in the home.Chairs in particular must beclosely inspected, tested forsleepability and comfort, and yetall seem to pass the test initiallythough some are abandonedquickly, giving way to othersthat have met the test of time.It is much…

    Lou Faber

  • DID YOU?

    Sitting on the chairin the photographer’s studiodid you ever pause to wonderthat day, the snow fallingoutside the papered-over windowskeeping the light whollywithin his control,how many lonely menmight keep your picture, youtheir imagined once loverwho left, who died, whogrew apart over time,on their mantle, coffeetable, nightstand, dresser.Did you even know youwould be framed countless timesin several…

    Lou Faber

  • JUST IMAGINE FOR A MOMENT

    Imagine that they could see youbehind the velvet ropes, staringat them slack-jawed, at the opulenceand the excess that was ancient Egypt.We stare at the sarcophagi, at the goldthrone chair and jewel encrusted gods,imagining ourselves able to affordluxury on that remarkable scale,we more the slaves out of sightbreaking our backs to build the tombsthat would someday…

    Lou Faber

  • TY NEWYDD

    In the gently aging house,replete with writersthere are endless roomsin which the muse dartsdispensing her soul.I prefer to sit with the catcurled in an overstuffed chairher head risingand falling imperceptiblyour breaths harmonic.We commune in unspoken dialoga language of silencebespeaking volumesof our shared existence. First published in The River, Sandy River Review, March 2024https://sandyriverreview.com/2024/03/30/seeing-you-again-next-stop-riding-ty-newydd/

    Lou Faber

  • CH-CH-CH-CHANGES

    Walking back through my lifeI can now begin to see when and wherethings changed, where I changed, wherethe place I thought of as my homebecame alien, altered, as thoughthe weathering of time wore awaywhat I now know were carefully appliedveneers, real enough seeming to meand to others who stopped to visit.And when the music changed…

    Lou Faber

  • INCARNATION

    I had been sitting for an hourin the coffee shop areaof the now gone Borders bookstoretrying to piece together the shardsof a life shattered by the impendingend of a long marriage that wasgoing to last for a lifetime.And I was hoping, perhaps,to meet someone, ready or not,to try and fill the smallest cornerof what was…

    Lou Faber

  • LURKING

    You lurk behind meas I sit at the islandboth the messenger and the message.You appear magicallyon my chair back, your tailwrapping my neck, a mink like scarfregardless of the temperature.I hear a slowly growing rumbleas if with my ear to the groundI can sense a distant temblor.And then there is the flickof dampened sandpaper on…

    Lou Faber

  • SAVANNAH

    The morning clings to youlike a damp sheet, the foglifting slowly, a magnifierpulled away from the square,the live oaks edging into focus. You sit at the table, wipingthe crumbs from you reallydon’t want to know when,a steaming cortado waitingpatiently for the first bitesof the large scones onthe mismatched plates. In the background a cry,“vanilla soy…

    Lou Faber

  • FELIS CATUS

    When you live with the cat,which is to say when a catallows you to live in her home,you quickly learn a wholenew language, a few words hers,mono- or bisyllabic, words for yes,food, brush, clean up my litter,and in our case even thank you, rarely used.And you expand your own vocabularyas well, for English is often…

    Lou Faber