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

*** (after A.R. Ammons) In every silo the bottommost grain is filled with self-loathing, buried there beneath all those tin..

*** The package says Family Size, a hundred and twenty brown and tan cookies sandwiched around a dense ..

*** Back from Paris after visiting her half-brother and his wife, my daughter brought me a gift she’d bought, ..

*** I’ve known a few women named Sharon and one Laura McGrath. This girl was Karen. We met dealing with our mental ..

*** I should get me oneof those diesel-burningbehemoths with leather seatsand a hundred-thousand unused miles lefton its odometer, provided..

*** Like a snake sheds its skin, the tamarack loses its gaudy golden grandeur, and stands bare on the toes of Lake Erie, hissing ..

*** Wade with me, Divine One, stand above and slightly to the right -- the light there better for jettisoning smelly old hab..

*** It’s only when that snake, the tamarack, strips down, and mud has filled the bog, beliefs have become leather goods lef..

*** It’s only when you’re required to reach, and reach deeply as you dare into the bottomless well to draw wat..

Haibun