an old writer and his words

  • TRAVEL THOUGHTS 13

    In this age when facts and statisticsdefine reality instantlyit is comforting to knowthat if all the containerson the piers of the Port of Newarkwere laid end to endthey would still beexceedingly ugly. First published in Exquisite Corpse, No. 43, 1993

    Lou Faber

  • SITTING WATCHING

    Of course when we livedup north we wouldn’thave imagined this, sittingon our lanai watching the sunset the patchy sky ablazesipping small glasses of portand wondering if a lightjacket might be in order,as the beaver moonof November waxes slowly. The cat, curled at our feetcannot imagine the icy windhowling down the street,the foreboding clouds offeringtheir first…

    Lou Faber

  • SLOW STREAM

    The river that I imagined, a torrent of words and images is little more than a dry trickle, construction cranes along one shore hauling away half- and ill-formed thoughts, leaving only desire and frustration as a marker of what might have been. I looked at each bend, hidden from sight as harboring that epiphany that…

    Lou Faber