an old writer and his words

  • CH-CH-CH-CHANGES

    Walking back through my lifeI can now begin to see when and wherethings changed, where I changed, wherethe place I thought of as my homebecame alien, altered, as thoughthe weathering of time wore awaywhat I now know were carefully appliedveneers, real enough seeming to meand to others who stopped to visit.And when the music changed…

    Lou Faber

  • RECITAL

    The keys didn’t frighten me. 88 of them, but I’d never use the majority, probably. And the ones I knew were generally well behaved, although they did defy me from time to time, and then said it was my fault, they didn’t respond to wishes, just fingers, And even the audience didn’t bother me, not…

    Lou Faber

  • REFLECTION

    The thing with mirrors is that they always want to tell the truth where we what is lies, or at least a little fibs, some wrinkles smoothed, hair now a color the mirror is more than capable of reflecting, but mirrors don’t bend to our wishes, and when they do, at carnivals mostly, the result…

    Lou Faber

  • LONE STAR

    The oddest thing about Texas isn’t that nothing is really bigger, other than the imaginations and wishes of those who have spent far too much time there, no, the oddest thing is that we outsiders actually look to see if things are bigger. Well that and the fact that the locals can so easily get…

    Lou Faber

  • PLEASE CONTINUE TO HOLD

      The thing I don’t get, he said, is why whenever I put in a call to heaven a male voice answers, and says he will transfer me. Usually the wait time is too long but occasionally a woman will answer and tell me the Queen of Queens, blessed is she, is busy but she…

    Lou Faber

  • REVISION

    She said, “As we get older we start to come from the place we only wished we were from, and the place from which we came, becomes the place from which we are now glad we never visited.” He said, “As I age, my youth changes, and the things I say I did are increasingly,…

    Lou Faber

  • CONTEMPLATING

    She stands on the bridge and stares down into the slowly flowing river. She wonders what it might feel like to climb the railing and pushing off, gain flight. The river would welcome her, enfold her, carry her to its heart. She will not leap this day just as she did not the day before,…

    Lou Faber