an old writer and his words

  • WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

    My history is like an ill-sewn quilt, odd piecesof parents stitched looselytogether, always ready to comeapart, fade or be thrown away. Perhaps my history ismore like a belovedold pair of jeans, holesappear and are patched,patches wear out and arereplaced, or the hole isjust left, as if it weresomehow a fashion statement. There is little normalwhen…

    Lou Faber

  • SOCKING MEMORY

    It appears unexpectedlylike a sock from behind the dryerlong after its matehas been discarded or converted to rag.You have looked for itever since it went missingand knowing the way of socksand their hiding placesthe dryer was one of the firstplaces you looked for it.Memories are much like socksnow and again running offand hiding, leaving half…

    Lou Faber

  • SORT OF

    She is sifting through photo albums deciding which pictures to keep, which to discard, questioning why she kept some in the first place, blurred, ill composed. She sets very high standards now wondering why some were taken, the sun she says, all wrong here, the background in that one just swallows the subjects. I left…

    Lou Faber