an old writer and his words

  • DON’T BLAME ME

    On the day after I diethere is a real possibilitythat the sun will refuseto rise, an appropriateeffort at mourningwhich would be appreciatedif I were only thereto not see it. So I will just take iton faith, and as for thoseof you who survive meI will apologize in advancefor your day of darkness,although we both knowyou…

    Lou Faber

  • SYMMETRY

    There is a certain perfectsymmetry in both lifeand death. We do not rememberthe moment at whichwe were born. We will not rememberthe the moment at whichwe will die. We did not fearthe moment at whichwe were born why then should we fearthe moment at whichwe will die?

    Lou Faber

  • YOU THERE

    We dance between wantingto know what is out there,and fearing that we are notany longer unique, just onemore in an endless stream. And then we have to wonderif the others, such as they are,wonder what is out there,and fear that they are notany longer unique, just onemore in an endless stream. Has it always been…

    Lou Faber

  • ROBBIE

    He left and we never saw the departure coming. We knew he would leave sooner or later, but not now. We had planned on his visit. We knew he meant he was coming. We knew he might just show up. He traveled on snap decisions. It might be here, it might be Paris or Italy.…

    Lou Faber

  • TOODLE-OO

    So, Bly, you have finallygone and joined the parade,holding out the longest as thoughthat was a badge you couldsomehow carry out with you. Take consolation that youbested Ginsberg and Corsoand even outlasted Ferlinghetti,though he was giving youa run for your money. And Plath, well shewas the first, far too youngeveryone said, but now Iam left…

    Lou Faber

  • LAMBERT FIELD

    The gravestones, in random shapes line the hill the morning chillcreeps between them and onto the runway until washed awayby the spring sun slowly pushing upwardas the jet noise washes the hill unheard He passed away quietly in his bed ending his dreadof the cancer slowly engulfing him his vision dimmedby the morphine that pulsed…

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE PRECIPICE

    He never imagined for a momentthat he would be here, hereof all places, on the precipiceof an abyss the likes of whichhe only visited in nightmares. And he knew, when he lookedback he knew he would seethe pack of Abyssinians headingfor him, and that was anothernightmare given his cat allergyand his intense Ailurophobia. So there…

    Lou Faber

  • REAL TIME

    Reality is clearly something to be avoidedto be dressed up in tattery, tied in ribbons,perfumed, yet its fetid stenchis always lurking in the backgroundwaiting to pierce your nostrilsin an incautious moment until you retchand bring up the bile that marksthe darker moments of your life,the kind that lingers in the throatwhich no chocolate can erase.Reality…

    Lou Faber

  • A SMALL REQUEST

    If those in the campsknowing their fate,the inevitabilityof their impending deathcould call up music,for orchestras, playor sing withtheir final breaths, is it too muchtheir ghosts silentlyask, for youto pause andremember us,and singa dirgefor our souls.

    Lou Faber

  • A QUESTION OF TIMING

    Umberto Eco, I believe,intending to or not,has found the perfect wayto bring classic playsback to life, to enable usto reinterpret theseold works, to hold theirreincarnated selves dear. All you need do is decidewhether you are onewho prefers beginningsor finds ends more satisfying. Go see Hamlet, but missthe first act or so, and museon why he…

    Lou Faber