Two Poems by Vikas K. Menon
But Walt Whitman’s sweetly other tongue // always sang in us, / my Brother, my Stranger— // even as children, when / all we owned // were our silences. More
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But Walt Whitman’s sweetly other tongue // always sang in us, / my Brother, my Stranger— // even as children, when / all we owned // were our silences. More
Are you an artist at risk or know someone who is?