an old writer and his words

  • I WAS, BACK THEN

    Fifteen years ago, I tell them,I was invincible, nothing bothered me,nothing held me back and eventhe few surgeries were shortrest stops on a runner’s highway. I knew it would last forever, Iknew I was kidding myself. Now, aging, I am held togetherby titanium and injections,trying to fall apart withas much grace as possible. My little…

    Lou Faber

  • THE WRITER STUMBLES

    Each yearin Pamplonathe bulls begintheir slow descentdown the narrow streetsgaining speednostrils flaringmuscle and sinews tautthey forge aheada white wavepreceding themin their mad dashand each yearthere is one,some years twowho, by slip of footor lapse of judgmentmeet the hornsof the lead bullwho in disgustsnorts“this oneis noHemingway.” First published in Defenestration ,Vol XVI Issue 2 August 2019

    Lou Faber

  • FINITE LOOP

    As it turns out, lifeis an ongoing process of accretionand deconstruction, of growthand eventual shrinkage. I started with 20 teethI am told, and got to 32,only to fall back to 23thanks to orthodontia and wear. We start with 270 or morebones, but we knit that numberdown to 206, or in my case under200, the orthopaedist’s…

    Lou Faber

  • ALOFT

    As a child I often flew kites, which is to say that I ran haphazardly pulling a string and dragging a wood frames paper rhombus across the park. My father laughed until seeing me on the edge of tears he took up the string and dragged the kite across the park. One day a strong…

    Lou Faber

  • COMPARISONS

    It was Henry Miller who said that the principal difference between a sage and a preacher is one thing: gaiety, and I suppose the same could be said of the difference between the monk and the wealthy man. It was in a small temple nestled in a courtyard of three office towers in the heart of…

    Lou Faber