Richard Fox, three poems

Quảng Ngãi café

sugared coffee

tables rattle, walking bombs

each ordnance, unique cameo in foam

rpg poppies dance in breeze

mortar sea fig tree shadow drifts

rocket silhouette of mama, smiling

watch mama shudder

cousin shrieks, blood stream from temple

sister wraps her khān ran

wall leaks brick

every eye counts clan

thunderclap shakes the deck

that one, further away

baby girl, mute in bassinet

pull back cover—sticky

raw flesh, butchered rabbit

nose, mouth—


—dye the white comforter

Frog and toad are friends

I glance out the bathroom window

my young son plays with a red ball

toss chase, toss chase

the swing-set has a fort at its base