an old writer and his words

  • ALBANY, THURSDAY NIGHT

    It is a cheap moteljust off the highway,across from the mallnow almost empty of cars,a room not much biggerthan a bed, a desk anda small nightstand.The diet cola is sweatingdespite the breezeof the air conditioner,the television flickers.I have left a wake up callhoping I arise beforethe jangle of the phoneknowing I will not.Corso lies on…

    Lou Faber

  • ALBLANY THURSDAY NIGHT

    It is a cheap moteljust off the highway,across from the mallnow almost empty of cars,a room not much biggerthan a bed, a desk anda small nightstand.The diet cola is sweatingdespite the breezeof the air conditioner,the television flickers.I have left a wake up callhoping I arise beforethe jangle of the phone,knowing I will not.Corso lies on…

    Lou Faber

  • A QUIET CORNER

    He would see the older man most morningsat the small table in the coffee shopoverlooking the street, hunchedover his New York Times, oftenpen in hand on the crossword.The baristas all knew him, if not by name,saved the table for him be various meansuntil he arrived, when they wouldprepare his carrot muffin and cappuccino.He strained to…

    Lou Faber

  • SUBSTITUTE

    Language is becoming a poor substitutealthough I have no word for what it isthat it is a poor substitute for at present. I grabbed an organic bananafrom the refrigerator this morningand paused to wonder if there areinorganic bananas somewhere. My New York Times, as usual, offeredAll The News That Is Fit To Printbut I really…

    Lou Faber

  • RETIREMENT

    He would arrive as I was still strugglingto convince the dog that he didn’t needto drag me around the neighborhood,that he knew the backyard well enough. I’d lose the argument in the end, thatwas a given, but he’d concede meenough time to wolf down breakfast,and I’d hear the small door in the wallopen and then…

    Lou Faber