Suggested Serving

The router is blinking a useless red,

so I’m sitting here eating dry flakes

and reading the side of the box

like it’s the morning news.

'Free Inside,' it says.

But the date on the bottom

is from a year I don’t remember being in.

The flap is torn, a jagged gray lip

that won't tuck back into the slot.

I stare at the bowl of berries

pictured on the cardboard,

perfect and glistening and fake.

Mine are just dust at the bottom of the bag.