an old writer and his words

  • THE POET?

    He stood in front of the classin a more than half empty lecture halland leaned into the podium, almost smiling. He was here, a real poet, half famousby his own reckoning, totally so by ourssince he was rumpled, as a poet ought,his sport coat tweedy and ill fitting. Still we harbored some doubts,for there was…

    Lou Faber

  • THE GREAT HERE AFTER

    When it’s time, i suppose I’d like to go like my dog and cat, slipping away as they were gently stroked. It could be like that, there’s a chance but I can’t count on it, no one can. I never did try skydiving, too late, now and so a failed or fouled chute won’t be…

    Lou Faber