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A Poem For My Friend, Star

The New Age: Who Dares Believe It?

I remember when we dressed in silks, all hair and bells and sweet hallucination, and the bird that rose in our chest we called freedom, and let fly. It was the demand air made of us, and we made a fashion of the wind, sweeping, gliding, curving it to our needs.

First Night

Speaking without words is like bleeding. The actualization of color in the chest. A chapter in flesh-tones. A swim in the energy that moves people, that draws on the subtle influence of inner mysteries — those essences which are the source of human action.

No More Sheiks

“No more sheiks in this desert, man.” The dark-skinned, bearded one laughed half-heartedly through a mouthful of smiling teeth. “Not one of them bastards left now. Toke?”

Of Home Now

Thoughts On Community

An Interview With Stephen Gaskin

Each seed, each baby born, each word, each deed, all together now, creating the music of the world.

A Walk Down Main Street

Tampa Airport Hotel Dishroom After A Banquet

Eat A Cheeseburger Instead

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