an old writer and his words

  • OCULUS

    I avoid telling people that Iam going blind in my right eyefor they always seem surprisedas if it should look differentor worse, they say “but it mightnot happen,” when I knowthe only way that is truehis if I die sooner, not somethingI want and if I told them thatwould be something for which theywould fumble…

    Lou Faber

  • HUP TWO

    He grew fed up with the Army. He had put in 25 years, but the last five had been totally discombobulated, one snafu after another. Everything was FUBAR and he grew wholly disgruntled with it all. He knew it was time to go, to bail out, and no one tried to stop him, to change…

    Lou Faber

  • THE OLD ROCKER

    I reached the point in lifewhere I know the Byrds were right,I was so much older then,I’m younger than that now, andfor good measure Jethro Tull knewI was too old to rock ‘n’ rollbut far too young to die.And yet I am still inchoate,a product of the Big Bang, stellardust accreted temporarily.And the Webb Space…

    Lou Faber

  • FINAL TEST

    If he were graded solelyon effort, he would havereceived a B+ but life doesn’tallow such a narrow view. He had no father, no modelso he stumbled through lookingat others, unsure which were rightwhich were botching the job. He bought an ancient firstbaseman’s glove from Goodwillthe only left-handed glove they hadand I taught him to use…

    Lou Faber

  • SMALL REFLECTION

    It is that moment when the moonis a glaring crescent,slowly engulfed bythe impending night—when the few clouds give outtheir fading glowin the jaundiced lightof the sodium arc street lamp.It nestles the curb—at first a small bird—when touched, a twisted piece of root. I want to walk into the weed-strewnaging cemetery, stand in the shadowof the…

    Lou Faber

  • SOONER OR LATER

    He is cornered and knows itso he responds as honestlyas he knows how withoutturning away his questioner. “You have a basic choice, “he says, “most likely,and that is do you want itto look like this now, or do you want it to looklike this in say thirty years.If you want it looking likethis in thirty…

    Lou Faber

  • UNTIL

    I was the adoptee,was the whole for years, until. It is always the untilthat is your undoing, wasmine when sheremarried, then two births. I was one third then, neveragain truly whole and whenshe died I discoveredin her will I was onlyone twentieth, andthen never even that. I want to forget her,forget them, denythem, but all…

    Lou Faber

  • UNKNOWING

    Twenty years ago todayand there was no band playing,at least not for me, for I knewnothing of you yet, and youknew nothing of me either. I have met you sincein a moment of silence,looking at a yearbook pictureknowing what was not, whatnever was or could be. I recite the Kaddisheven though my Judaismhas been laid…

    Lou Faber

  • SUNDAY MORNING

    Every Sunday morning my parents,usually my father at mother’s directionwould drive me the four blocksto attend Sunday school. I could easily have walked, a longblock and a half by cutting through yards,but they were afraid of I haveabsolutely no idea what. My friends that weren’t there with mewere probably in church soit wasn’t like I…

    Lou Faber

  • A WELL REHEARSED SILENCE

    Of course there is something I oughtto say, moments like this require it,it goes without saying, painfully. I practiced lines for hours, rehearsedin my dreams for weeks, knewfor years I’d be rendered mute. My tongue swells, threateningto escape my mouth or take refugedeep within my esophagus. Your silence is only compoundingmy anxiety, how can I,…

    Lou Faber