an old writer and his words

  • HILLEL AT THE GOLDEN DRAGON

    I am honored that this poem was just published in the Fall/Winter Issue of the  Atlanta Review, I had dinner the other night with Rav Hillel in a small Chinese place just off Mott Street. I asked him what it was like in the afterlife, after all the years. It gets a bit boring, he…

    Lou Faber

  • CULPA

    We should stop blaming the snake. First, do we really want to admit the reptile was that much smarter than we were? More importantly, how long could we have survived wearing the leaves, if anything at all, and eating fruits and vegetables? Okay, I grant you that is all I eat, but by choice and…

    Lou Faber

  • THIS TIME AROUND

    He says that in his prior life, this being second he knows of, he was Japanese, although he did have a cousin in China, but he doesn’t know his name anymore. He wasn’t there for the war with Okinawa, but he knows that karate was developed then, and it’s why, in this life he studies…

    Lou Faber

  • PAPAL EDICT

    She said “now what they’ve taken away limbo” sounding a bit depressed, “not that you proceed express to the ferry dock, but that was a snap, all you were carefully taught is suddenly wrong or irrelevant. “It would be like Isaac,” I say, “climbing Mount Moriah with Abraham finding a ram tethered to a waiting…

    Lou Faber

  • YIDDISH

    My grandmother lapsed into Yiddish only on special occasions “where other words won’t fit” she said, where there is no English to describe the indescribable, blessed be He, but we knew that it was merely a convenient way to keep us out of the conversation, while they clucked. Mah Johng is a game that can…

    Lou Faber

  • HUMANITY

    Each day I walk out into the sea. Each day the sea engulfs me. I cannot walk on the water, nor does the water part before me. Each day I walk out into the sea and reconfirm my humanity. In my prior life as a Corporate attorney, I was profiled in the ACC Docket, the…

    Lou Faber