an old writer and his words

  • PEKING

    Chi-Chi was a cute pekein a very “runt of the litter”sort of way, cuddly buthardly the show dogher breeders had intended.I asked why she was calledChi-Chi and my father searchedand showed me her AKCpapers, with the full namethat would’ve made thoseof Spanish royaltypause to consider the brevityof their seemingly endless names.She was a simple joy,…

    Lou Faber

  • THE WEIGHT OF MOURNING

    The weight of mourning defies precise measurement,and all of the rules of mathematics fail in an attempt.Grief rejects being placed on scales, there is nevera moment of pure equilibrium, only a teeteringthat always threatens to bring it all down in a heap.A million who are nameless and faceless is an agonyand yet eighty thousand with…

    Lou Faber

  • NOMENCLATURE

    We really need to stopnaming new plant varietiesand comets after the peoplewho first discovered them.Think about it for a moment –they didn’t invent anything,they just saw what was already there.So let’s agree on a new ruleshall we, plant varieties willhenceforth be named afterrock bands with at leastone gold record, and cometsafter random lines fromeither Hamlet…

    Lou Faber

  • SMALL REFLECTION

    It is that moment when the moonis a glaring crescent,slowly engulfed bythe impending night—when the few clouds give outtheir fading glowin the jaundiced lightof the sodium arc street lamp.It nestles the curb—at first a small bird—when touched, a twisted piece of root. I want to walk into the weed-strewnaging cemetery, stand in the shadowof the…

    Lou Faber

  • LISA, ONCE

    A phone call, a lawyer’s clerk:Can you tell me about Lisa Landesman?I pause for that is a name I havenot heard in forty years, savein a poem I once wrote,now long forgotten. She was my sister for twoor three weeks, adopted like I was,and then Mike, my then fatherdropped dead of a massiveheart attack and…

    Lou Faber

  • THE ANCIENTS

    Night and the ancients retreatto a dark corner of their celestial prisonfrom the promised arrivalof the yellow dwarf from whichthey know we demand a presence. We ignore the ancients now,ignore those who cast theminto their prison, ignorethe acts for which they werebanished, care only to name them,and they know that our recognitionis their only grasp…

    Lou Faber

  • REAR VIEW MIND

    I spent too much time lookingbackward, looking into the past,looking into the mirrorto frame a dream historyof my desires and fears.He called one morning, lefta message, “Mother died,more details will follow.”A mother his by birth,mine by legal act.I should have felt stunnedanger, I said quietly to myselfhe’s cocky, has issues, and wentabout momentary mourning.That is…

    Lou Faber

  • SIN

    A poet suggested that sinwas created by the Christians,wrong, of course, but perhapsjust being politically correctin not naming the Jews asits creator, or at leastgiving it a name and rulebook. And on the point of accuracythe poet might have notedthat the Jews createdthe Christians, for Jesuswas one of them, a reformerbefore Judaism would allowanything beyond…

    Lou Faber

  • NAMENCLATURE

    I have goneby many names,some chosen,some inherited,some thrown at mein anger,in scorn,in friendship. Names addnothing to whoI am, whoI choose to be,who I am seento be by the thosewho throw aroundnames as ifthey were magicalincantations, elixirswith great powerthat fallat my feetlike shatteredicicles of mynot caring.

    Lou Faber

  • R.I.P.

    We are planning the funeralfor Roe today, eulogiesfully ready, for we are certainthe death was slow and painfuland now all we can do is mourn. Some we know will not attend,Brown out of fear, knowingthe eventual consequencesof this loss, Miranda becausehe is already marked, houndedby those in power, an easy mark. Sullivan may be there,…

    Lou Faber