an old writer and his words

  • FOR SPACIOUS SKIES

    It is a clear sign of my agethat I recall the hours we spentlearning about America, whatit stood for, how it was welcomingto immigrants from everywhere,why America was the greatestcountry in the world, and weincredibly naively ate it up.Vietnam brought us a large doseof the ugly reality of the modern age.Half a century on that…

    Lou Faber

  • UNDER FOOT

    Okay, let’s get some things straight once and for all. I don’t live in a shoe. It’s a work of modern architecture, a quite normal if unusual looking home,, and if you imagine it shoe-like, so be it. I’m not old, I’m 45, but with eight kids I am prematurely gray. It wasn’t broth I…

    Lou Faber

  • MOLDY

    Say what you will aboutthis modern age, beset with,well, it’s probably far easierto list what it is not beset with,but there are things from my youththat I do not miss at all.Like the copper molds that homeon the kitchen wall, one the shapeof a lobster, another an ornate ring.They were strange but reasonablydecorative items, but…

    Lou Faber

  • MACHISMO

    He was fond of sayingthat men need to toughen up,show more fortitude, taketime for serious male bonding. He would prattle on abouthow so many men werenot true men anymore,warped by modern society. I tried my best to avoid him,to quickly end our encounters andwhen I could not, for he wouldinevitably complain of loneliness. Still, I…

    Lou Faber

  • CHECKOUT LINE

    Time seems frozen in the checkout line stuck between the Mars bars and the tabloids, you wonder how Liz could survive a total body liposuction, and further details of how OJ killed in a moment of lust. The old woman in front rummages in her change purse certain she has the eighty-seven cents, the coins…

    Lou Faber

  • MARCHING ON

      He notes with alacrity that modern man has stripped all logic from time, rendering it an arbitrary temporal system based on mechanics, and even that is quadrennially imperfect. Once it was seasons, which came and went in orderly fashion, but heating was never a science then. Later it was the moon a reusable calendar…

    Lou Faber