Couple

June 1, 2023

A CITY OUT THERE

Somewhere out there
in a city struggling
there is a man dancing
in the reflected light
of a street lamp
to the sound of the wind,
there is a couple
caressing each other,
wishing for just one
cigarette,
there is a baby
calling for its mother
for a meal,
there is a car
parked in a driveway
its lights fading
into the bleakness,
there is a neon sign
flashing OPEN
into the void of night,
there is a man
sitting on a bed
begging for sleep.

First appeared in North of Oxford, May 2023
https://northofoxford.wordpress.com/2023/04/10/two-poems-by-louis-faber/

May 24, 2023

STOICS

This afternoon the vulture couple
sit stoically on the limbs
of the long dead tree in the preserve.

The rain was torrential
as we watched from the dry
confines of our home, they
stood soaked to the feathers
with nowhere to hide, knowing
they couldn’t out fly or out climb
the purging clouds, so they set
soaking wet and stared at us.

And then I knew, just looking
at them, that while I felt sorry
for them perched in a downpour
they felt the same for us, we
unable to know the joy of flight.

September 2, 2022

THE FATES HAVE IT

It was a chance meeting they thought
although the Fates knew otherwise.
Theirs was a subtly planned world,
leave no fingerprints, always have
an alibi, better still never get caught.

It was a short meeting, a brief
conversation and an ill-meant
promise to stay in touch, numbers
exchanged and as soon forgotten.

He never imagined calling,
nor did she, but he did call
and they did meet again,
and the Fates smiled as
the couple celebrated
their golden anniversary,
both still certain it was all
a simple matter of chance.

August 11, 2018

UNCOUPLED

Hope lies, she says, somewhere
between anticipation and boredom,
and in the daily muck and mire
so few want to look closely enough
to discover its presence, though it
promises deeply desired rewards.
He says he prefers faith, for it
requires less work, just state
the desired outcome and believe,
as deeply as you can, that
it will result in due course.
She says that the differences
between them are too great,
and the time has come to split
from each other, and she has faith
he will handle the split well.
He is shocked and says
that he only hopes that she
will come to her senses and stay.

April 23, 2016

BUENOS AIRES ON THE GENESEE

If this were Buenos Aires, if I were Borges, it would all make a great deal of sense.  A man, older, and older still if you look closely, walks into an elegant hotel bar.  A jazz quintet is playing, straight up, trumpet, piano, guitar, stand up bass, drum kit.  The older man is wearing white tennis shorts from a prior century.  They are baggy legged and would be too short for a much younger man.  He wears a dark afro wig.  He makes no pretense that it is his hair, or that it is even real hair.  He stands in a corner with his wife, intently watching the musicians.  Others in the lounge and bar steal sidelong glances at him.  He wears white athletic socks, white tennis shoes.  He has on an oversized light blue sweatshirt. It is all quite logical.  I am not Borges, this is not Buenos Aires.  It is October, autumn has announced itself and taken hold.  It is Rochester and winter lies in waiting.  You can occasionally feel its bated icy breath.  The older man does not drink.  The band’s set ends.  The older man and his wife walk out of the hotel into a lake chilled night.