an old writer and his words

  • PAYMENT DUE

    He only wanted to be forgotten, heput on mask after mask seekingthe anonymity that celebrity denied.There he was satanic, freely condemnedfor thoughts he shared that gratedon their sense of self-worth, their egos,and here almost angelic, if not to betrusted, no one knowing which he was realand which a carefully crafted veneer.Still he found neither solace…

    Lou Faber

  • OR

    I can safely say I don’t miss the dayswhen they wheeled you into the operating room,smiling you assumed behind the masks,as you shift from gurney to table, your open gownflapping about like some wind driven flag.You would lie there staring up at the massive lightsthankfully were turned on, blinding you, watchedas they placed the mask…

    Lou Faber

  • REAL TIME

    Reality is clearly something to be avoidedto be dressed up in tattery, tied in ribbons,perfumed, yet its fetid stenchis always lurking in the backgroundwaiting to pierce your nostrilsin an incautious moment until you retchand bring up the bile that marksthe darker moments of your life,the kind that lingers in the throatwhich no chocolate can erase.Reality…

    Lou Faber

  • A SIMPLE CHOICE

    It is a simple choice, she said,bicycles or a cat. I wanted to tell her thatthere are no simple choicesin the middle of a pandemic,and those that seem that way,to mask or not, to shop or notcan be life or death choices. I thought about the optionsfor a few moments, rememberedthe cats I still mourn…

    Lou Faber

  • SCHRODINGER’S DREAM

    Inside the box the cat is alive and the cat is not alive but Schrodinger is dead or the idea of Schrodinger is dead. We walking into the store – he was sitting, rough hewn face in hands, staring at a table covering, ignoring our approach.  He barely looked up when we paid when the…

    Lou Faber