an old writer and his words

  • AMETHYST DREAMS

    He leans on the barin the pose of the Thinkerlost in a reverie of Bourbon,odd bits of foolscapscattered about, coastersfor peanut shells,and the odder jotsof the unbegun epic.In the hazeof another cigarettehe fingers the violetworry beads.“Amethustos,” he muttersas if calling fortha god or a musebut his callgoes unreturnedby the unrepentant grain.He imagines himselfa bishop to…

    Lou Faber

  • ERGO COGITO

    She says she is certain she exists, much as she is certain he exists as well. He says, she thinks she exists, thinks he does as well.                                                  Descartes, he says, was…

    Lou Faber