an old writer and his words

  • JUST IMAGINE FOR A MOMENT

    Imagine that they could see youbehind the velvet ropes, staringat them slack-jawed, at the opulenceand the excess that was ancient Egypt.We stare at the sarcophagi, at the goldthrone chair and jewel encrusted gods,imagining ourselves able to affordluxury on that remarkable scale,we more the slaves out of sightbreaking our backs to build the tombsthat would someday…

    Lou Faber

  • BOOK TWO

    So if I have it right, Godmanaged to come up with tenplagues for Moses to visiton Pharaoh, although at the timeMoses probably could notunderstand why it was ten,since God was boundlesslycreative, or so He told Moses. Maybe it dawned on Moseswhen wandering in the desertthat ten was a convenient number,after all, he only gave Mosesten…

    Lou Faber

  • IBIS SEEING YOU

    They pausein their foraging in the lawnto peer up at us,strange looking interlopers,but they are used to us by nowand return to the task at hand. We no longer find them strangethough we never quiteget used to the curvedsalmon colored beaks,and we do wonderwhy the ancient Egyptians held them sacred. It seems that theyhave never forgiventheir Egyptian ancestorsfrom affixingtheir head to…

    Lou Faber

  • ALMOST PASSOVER

    It is almost Pesach, early this year so I will get a birthday cake not the rubbery sponge cake of matzoh meal, eggs and ginger ale, covered in fruit. We are peeling the applies and chopping them for the charoset for the communal seder most to be thrown away along with the paper plates and…

    Lou Faber

  • UNKNOWING

    I don’t know what                                                I am, the Buddha said. I don’t know why                                      …

    Lou Faber

  • HOLY MOSES

    Consider, for a moment                                                            he said                                          …

    Lou Faber

  • UNKNOWING

    I don’t know what                         I am, the Buddha said. I don’t know why                         my mother gave me up at birth                         or how many cousins walk                                     the streets of Glasgow                         or where I lost my first tooth I don’t know what                         became of the nickel                         or why the tooth fairy…

    Lou Faber