Brand Loyalty

The box looked right—the same font, the same cartoon,

the same primary colors on the shelf.

I bought it like a dare I gave myself

and sat down with it Sunday afternoon.

The milk went beige around the little shapes.

I waited for it. That's the embarrassing part—

I was actually waiting, spoon in hand, for the start

of something that would give me back the tapes

of Saturday mornings I can barely see now:

linoleum, a cartoon, the specific light.

It didn't come. The cereal was fine, alright,

just not the same address. I finished. Somehow

stood at the counter a minute longer than I should.

Rinsed the bowl. It tasted like a neighborhood.