an old writer and his words

  • THE SON SETS

    My adoptive mother said:I chose you from all the others.My adoptive mother meant:when the wheel of fortunestop spinning the arrowpointed you and that was that. My “brother,” biological sonof my adoptive parents said:we have always thought of youjust like a brother.My “brother” meant:we were stuck with youthough you weren’t even half to us. When my…

    Lou Faber

  • UNKNOWING

    Twenty years ago todayand there was no band playing,at least not for me, for I knewnothing of you yet, and youknew nothing of me either. I have met you sincein a moment of silence,looking at a yearbook pictureknowing what was not, whatnever was or could be. I recite the Kaddisheven though my Judaismhas been laid…

    Lou Faber

  • ELEGY FOR A POET

    (for Allen Ginsburg) You died quietly in your bed friends gathered around the cars and buses of the city clattering out a Kaddish to a God you had long ago dismissed as irrelevant. We would have expected your to howl, to decry the unfairness of it all, but you merely said it is time, and…

    Lou Faber

  • TO ALLEN

    Tell me more about death, I said put it into words, that’s your specialty so open your mouth from amid your black jungle of a beard now white, I want a noise, a howl. Why the hell do I hear only silence, I know it’s the sound of one hand clapping, but I demand more…

    Lou Faber

  • SITTING SHIVA

    The sitting of  Shiva is a tribal right performed with Kaddish and coffeecake. The mourning is harder for the adult child, for the now severed bond grows with time and not distance, and there comes a point where the loss invokes your mortality. Tonight we all speak of the departed off on a journey we never…

    Lou Faber