an old writer and his words

  • ELAPSED TIME

    Time measured outin a slow twistingof a fork, pitchedinto day’s heartbleeding heatas pulses fade.Tequila breezeblows acrossthe verandahpalms rustlingto rhythms of lifebodies snatchedcarried off, placesunseen, unimagined.Wings float upliftedher face in sleepserene, feline.Night’s morphine dripedges into sleepdreams of her touchcloses eyesto phoenix’s ascension. First published in The Berlin Literary Review, Issue 01, May 2023https://theberlinliteraryreview.com/issue-one/

    Lou Faber

  • THE RIGHT WAY

    In a world besetby poverty and pandemic,global warming and hunger,there are a myriadof questons urgentlyrequiring answers. Among themis not the questionof the proper wayto eat with a fork,or more preciselyhow to hold itwhen bringing foodto the mouthfrom the plate. I was taught to holdit like a pen, buttilted so I lookeddown on the tinesbent in…

    Lou Faber

  • IN A CORNER

    First of all, Jack, you were sent to the corner for a reason. That pie was for everyone, not just you, we have told you endlessly about how wrong selfishness is. You won’t listen. And how many times do we have to tell you to use a fork or a spoon. Not only did you…

    Lou Faber