an old writer and his words

  • INCOGNITO

    Cities allow an anonymitythat few who have itclaim to want,and those who cannotfind it only wishto briefly have it.Cities have mastered juxtaposition,offering what is unwanted,taking that which is.But we choose to livein cities, visit them,for they are our sirensand we are simple sailorsalways looking for home.

    Lou Faber

  • NO THANKS

    Living now in a city that is not a cityby any commonly accepted definition, onewith no downtown, only a vast suburbansameness, strip plaza after strip plaza,I realize why I could never live in a citylike New York, why I am glad I decidedhalf a century ago to forego the cachetof being part of a self-prestigious…

    Lou Faber

  • MY ANNA

    Along the banks of the barge canalin the village park, a manolder, his hair white, almosta mane, sits on the breakwallfeeding Wonder breadto the small flotilla of ducks.Tearing shreds of crustfrom a slice, he casts itonto the water and smilesas they bob for the crumbs.He tells them the storyof his life as thoughthey were his…

    Lou Faber

  • NIGHT CHANGES

    Night alters sound in ways we can never precisely determine. It is possible our hearing changes with the flight of the sun, but the moon scoffs at this premise. A train rattling across the landscape in the heat of day becomes a musical instrument in the relative silence of night, playing a melody that insuates…

    Lou Faber