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
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Tagged: banana fritters, contemporary poetry, Hanoi Sundays, Kelly Morse poem, Linebreak, magic, poetry, tourism, travel, travel poetry