an old writer and his words

  • WANDERER

    He wandered into the labyrinthin search of what he could not remember,perhaps sudden enlightenment, perhapsa haloed monk, perhaps his history.He wondered if Buddha wassecretly a saint, if he could bea working man Buddha, if anythingreally mattered, if there was no exit,if there was a way out and at what cost.He hated the silence, knew that…

    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

  • TEMPUS, MEH

    As kids we knew that timewasn’t all that important,it was a concept of little meaningexcept that with which we imbued itand all of our senses coulddo things we never imagine.But now, at my age, timehas taken on new meaningas it compresses, andseasons are marked bybarely perceptible changesin temperature and humidity.The factories along the riverare mostly…

    Lou Faber

  • ANOTHER EVENING SPENT

    I wonder if there are priestssitting on beds drinking Diet Cokeand contemplating the meaningof heaven, of sex,of indigestion from a burgerand fries with onionsin a bar, the angelscovering their ears from the dinof four pool tables,of slipping on the spilled Red Rock,while outside the traffic thinsand the neon blinksits message to the gods. First appeared…

    Lou Faber

  • MOVING DAY

    In my dream last nightI was moving a matress, queen sized,probably with box springs butit was wrapped, from my parents’ hometo my apartment, but not usinga vehicle, just pushing italong the streets, obeyingall the traffic signals, usingmy turn indicators, althoughdon’t ask why a mattress hadturn lights, just accept that it did.It was arduous work, and…

    Lou Faber

  • LUNA’S SONG

    Tonight, when the sunhas finally conceded the dayto its distant but ever larger kin,the moon will again singher ever waning songhoping we will joinin a chorus we haveso long forgotten,bound to the earthin body and in waxing thought. We will stop and listenperhaps, over the dinof the city, the traffic,the animals conversingwith the sky, our…

    Lou Faber

  • MARCHING TO OBLIVION

    The most disturbing thingabout lemmings is notthat they follow one after anotherover a cliff or into traffic,it is not the carnagethat inevitably ensues,one after another doomedby the need to follow blindly. The disturbing thingis not the knowledge thatlemmings only follow,so someone directedthe first in line intoa suicidal act. The most disturbing thingis that lemmingsdo not…

    Lou Faber

  • ROUND ABOUT

    The great minds in Transportation have decidedthat the answer to all traffic problemsis simple, you replace troublesome intersectionswith traffic circles, but you call them roundabouts.They know that the young and wish they werein their muscle cars will avoid them like the plague,for even they cannot defeat centrifugal force,and inertia is one thing they never lack.And…

    Lou Faber

  • DISEMBARKING NARITA

    You disembark quickly a small bow to the flight crew, and walk briskly to immigration. The young man glances at your passport and embarkation card hands flying with the stamps. The baggage is offloaded onto the creeping segmented belt yours the fifth through the heavy plastic flaps hefted onto the cart. The customs agent pauses…

    Lou Faber