an old writer and his words

  • UNBOXED

    They thought they had himboxed in, contained, constrained,but he would not be truncated, cast aside.He would make a quiet escape, proceedcarefully so they would not realize,until it was too late, that he was freeof their control, their rejection, their spite.They wanted him in their psychic morgue,one more corpse sacrificed on their altarof conformity, but none…

    Lou Faber

  • VULCAN’S FLAMES

    The ark of hope had sailedalmost empty, their realitywas free falling, their dreamsconsumed in the furnaceof their greed, their arrogance.Time was hanging suspended,they were grasping at the handsof the clock perched now inover the growing abyss.Once they had been gods, orimagined themselves so, nowthey were fuel for Vulcan’s flames.Once they were prophetsof an unbounded, unbridled…

    Lou Faber