an old writer and his words

  • TOO MANY COOKS

    I can still recallthe day my motherwas ecstatic on learningthat everything grewout of a primordial soup.It was proof, shewas certain, of a JewishGod, even if he didn’tdo it all with his own hands.And, with a broad smileshe said, I’m fairly certainat the soupwas chicken, maybewith kreplach on the side.

    Lou Faber

  • Maximum Exposure

    She carefully hangs her life on the tautly stretched line across her small back yard. A sun faded floral housedress a pair of bib overalls knees worn white on the kitchen linoleum, cracked and dingy. She waits patiently for Humphrey Bogart to arrive and carry her up the river of her memory. The chicken threatens…

    Lou Faber

  • CAUSALITY DILEMMA

    There is a reason for all things and therefore there is a reason for this although we cannot begin to fathom what that reason could possibly be, which may be reason enough, for reason has a twisted soul — now playful, now angry, now vengeful in irregular turns without warnings. The problem with seeking the…

    Lou Faber

  • ERGO COGITO

    She says she is certain she exists, much as she is certain he exists as well. He says, she thinks she exists, thinks he does as well.                                                  Descartes, he says, was…

    Lou Faber