an old writer and his words

  • BUENOS AIRES ON THE GENESEE

    If this were Buenos Aires, if I were Borges, it would all make a great deal of sense.  A man, older, and older still if you look closely, walks into an elegant hotel bar.  A jazz quintet is playing, straight up, trumpet, piano, guitar, stand up bass, drum kit.  The older man is wearing white…

    Lou Faber

  • ALL THAT JAZZ

    The cat only wants to go outside.  It’s night, her favorite time, and she stalks the uncoiled garden hose, which has become a fierce green snake that falls to her attack.  He and she are dead tired, drowned in the sixth night of the fifth annual jazz festival.  His shirt is bathed in the half…

    Lou Faber