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I PLAY THE FOOL
On more than one occasion she had characterized him as a loveable fool fit for a Shakespearean comedy. Of course when she said this he bristled. That was the required response to the characterization, else he willingly adopt the role in perpetuity. But deep within himself he knew there was more truth than perhaps even…
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IN THE CITY OF DREAMS
my demonssink into the abyssof memoryand drownin the hollowbetween her breasts,she touches my armand presses backwe are Siamese fetusesfloating untetheredin the sea of night,I can smell the sweet soapand taste the sweatbeading on hershoulder blades,I brush my fingersacross her thighand cling to sleep. First published in Discretionary Love, June 2023https://www.discretionarylove.com/in-the-city-of-dreams-louis-faber/
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BUSINESS SUITS
“What do you think is the likelihoodof success in the long run,” she asks,and I watch the fly land on my forearm,perched on hairs that barely bend under his inconsequential weight.His wings are a perpetual twitch,almost unseen, and felt only as a faintbreeze in my imagination, while a world is created, a reality collapses, a…
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LACKLAND
They marched us to the middleof nowhere, sweat running downour backs, our olive drab uniformsnow three shades darker. They handed us a rifle, an M-16they told us in class, with a 5.56round, it would tumble afterit hit its target, good for killing. We lay on the ground, shoulderedthe weapon, aimed it at thetarget, a bottomless…
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ON THE PRECIPICE
He never imagined for a momentthat he would be here, hereof all places, on the precipiceof an abyss the likes of whichhe only visited in nightmares. And he knew, when he lookedback he knew he would seethe pack of Abyssinians headingfor him, and that was anothernightmare given his cat allergyand his intense Ailurophobia. So there…
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MISSING SONGS
The problem, or one of them, isthe lack of music today. We haveall manner of what people call music,but not the music of the sortwe need, needed once and found,as we stormed the bastionsand bastards who mired us in war,who shunned darker brothersand sisters, who made alienablebasic rights to half of us withoutrhyme or reason,…
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JANUARY
It is an odd feeling, in the middleof January, to no longer considerbecoming a bear, choosingto hibernate until Spring arrivesdemanding an awakening. I did that for years, nevergrew the heavy fur coat neededand wasn’t much for digging densin the snow, so I sat insideand dreamed of bearishness. Living now among the birdswhere we shiver when…
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SUMMER SONGS
the dangling green orbs hang beneath the verdant leaves dreaming of summer. sweat rolls down my back the noon sun stares angrily forgotten winter evening sky darkens is it the approach of night or simple summer rain?
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IN DREAMS
Mingling with the wind, my dreams are carried off into the night before I have fully finished viewing them. The heavy heat of summer has seeps through the windows, a blanket I cannot throw off almost smothering, until it, too, is soon washed away by the rivulets of sweat soaking into the sheets. I reach…
