Poetry: Hanoi Sundays

Let’s be tourists. Let’s eat banana fritters wrapped in old homework, crouch
on red plastic stools under the banyan spiky with joss sticks. Let’s walk

to our lake, have a cà phê đá and count turtles. Our spoons’ll scrape and clink the condensed
milk chorus of men forever on lunch breaks. Let’s forget colonialism and believe

the compliments. Let’s not argue too much when they overcharge us.
During the underwater afternoon hours let’s speed

read more at Linebreak

-Kelly Morse

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