an old writer and his words

  • SIPPING

    I spent much of the afternoon tryingto imagine you, spending a small partof an afternoon reading this poem. I have no clear picture of where you are,but the chair is well cushioned, andyou sit deeply in it, a glass of some amber liquid on the glass and metalend table, just within arm’s reach.I suppose, since…

    Lou Faber

  • OCCLUSION

    After the stroke he couldn’t remember much, was the woman in white who bathed him his wife or someone he slept with once before he had gotten married. Monogamy was a word that he remembered, though not its meaning, or why he had sworn to abide it. When the aide brought in the flowers, they…

    Lou Faber