an old writer and his words

  • HARLAN

    You came, Harlan, to Rochestersomewhere in an endless winter,“Ellison in Tundraland” you said.We all chuckled approvingly. You said a short prayerclimbing into the rusting Opel,sliding on the edgeof oblivion, andthe approaching snowplow. You stood, hoarse, smellingof Borkum Riff and English Leather,a tweed jacket over a polo shirtand thinning jeansand told us of the insanityof television,…

    Lou Faber

  • WE HEAR YOU

    He loves looking at the sky, particularly at night for he knows someday they will contact him, and if not him, someone else who, like him, loves looking at the sky. He has no idea what the message will be he isn’t sure he, or anyone, will be able to understand it, but he is…

    Lou Faber

  • WHERE?

    Set aside for a moment the sheer insanity of it all. Pretend that this is not your concern, it is merely something that you inherited, never wanted, would gladly part with on the simplest of requests you doubt will ever be forthcoming. Is this why you treasure it and cling to it so tightly or…

    Lou Faber

  • SUM ERGO COGITO

    Sanity is a state of mind, he said, which I visit only from time to time. It’s a dark and scary place where a majority live and that is reason enough to dwell among the insane.

    Lou Faber