Browse Topics

On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience

I have paid no poll-tax for six years. I was put into a jail once on this account, for one night; and, as I stood considering the walls of solid stone, two or three feet thick, the door of wood and iron, a foot thick, and the iron grating which strained the light, I could not help being struck with the foolishness of that institution which treated me as if I were mere flesh and blood and bones, to be locked up. . . . I saw that, if there was a wall of stone between me and my townsmen, there was a still more difficult one to climb or break through before they could get to be as free as I was.

Saying No

An Interview With Dirk Spruyt

When we filed our 1981 return, we wrote a letter saying that we had a conscientious objection to the paying of money for the purpose of killing people and asked that portion to be refunded. The IRS audited us.

Selected Poems

Editor’s Note

The Rising Sun Neighborhood Newsletter

I think we should have international coming out day where we gather our assorted courage and tell a few friends or the world The Awful Thing and find out — they already knew and didn’t care, they didn’t know and can’t see what the problem is, they’re shocked but get over it and are bigger in a while . . . or, or, or it’s awful to them too and we lose a friend.

We Do Only Be Drownded Now And Again

Excerpts From The Rising Sun Neighborhood

The only way I can make any sense of recent presidential elections is that the most vivid person wins, regardless of content, because too many of us have been dressing our lives in beiges and are suckers for a red tie and shiny shoes that look like relative strength.

Editor’s Note

Teaching, And The Mood Of Relativity

Many years ago when I first taught college English, I made a discovery in the first or second week of teaching, namely, that the main obstacle to instruction, to one’s ability to teach someone something they don’t already know, is the mood and spirit of relativity.

City/Country Miners

Some Northern California Veins

This time he’s more me than I am and we have been here together many lifetimes before and we are drinking each other alive. This is the moment to die. Nothing can get better. Nothing does.

Editor’s Note