W. Barrett Munn > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

*** This year I’m taking soil seriously. I buy the stuff to stuff into my pots, the seed starter stuff, and the en..

*** Why are eyes drawn to misfortune? That boy is missing his hand and he's playing in the sandbox with two other boys who..

*** Sweat drips down my collar. The boss is staring me in the eye, asking me if we had relations, me telling lie..

a modified haibun

*** In the early morning hours before the sun comes alive while a dark shroud waits outside to be penetrated by lamplight...

*** My lawyer mislabeled my grief as a brief. That's not it at all. When it comes to the law, nothing is brief. Lives a..

*** As far as I'm aware Pavarotti never wrote a poem, Frost never sang La Boheme. Is there some lesson here? ..

*** He laughed when he saw the size of the seeds. Nothing, he thought, can sustain itself on this. He wipe..

*** Now I lay me down to sleep, well, not exactly sleep, I'm too horny for sleep. Now I lay Jessica. We're both a ..

*** Sometimes I feel like I'll explode. Imperfection being so common among commoners who confuse doing things..