W. Barrett Munn
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The Silent Time of the YearA Poem by W. Barrett MunnSitting in the cold this morning and not even the birds are flying. It is winter. |
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Mi FamiliaA Poem by W. Barrett MunnThoughts of the Cubans escaping |
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Traveling North Out of HendersonA Poem by W. Barrett MunnHenderson, Nevada, and the drive down into Las Vegas at night. |
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Forward ForwardA Poem by W. Barrett MunnOn an ice-covered day on the way to the airport. |
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Empty VesselA Poem by W. Barrett MunnAbout poets in prison |
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New LibrarianA Poem by W. Barrett MunnA comment on current culture crisis |
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Foreign AffairA Poem by W. Barrett MunnA poem prompted by the Cantos |
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Q Comes Right After PA Poem by W. Barrett MunnQ-Anon, that is. |
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(390) No Ones in ParticularA Poem by W. Barrett MunnA series poem |
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Matters of PerspectiveA Poem by W. Barrett MunnDepends on whose glasses are worn |
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