Toss-off Poem #76: Breakfast

Cornflakes are shaped like shields

to deflect the milk. 

The harder you pour, the bigger the splash. 

Dr. Kellogg’s design: 

If you’re cleaning the countertop, 

you ain’t masturbating. 

By the time you wring out the washcloth, 

the flakes are soft as leaves

at the bottom of a winter pond. 

Your spoon destroys them. 

Also by design: 

A friendly reminder of your own decay

providing 100% of the recommended daily amount of disappointment 

which tastes like riboflavin. 

One more way for the good doctor to wilt your morning wood. 

Well, you’ll show him. 

Pour slow, spoon fast. 

Set your coffee mug on the porch rail, 

let it burn a clean hole in the snow. 

When you’re done, toss the silt in the yard, 

slop the squirrels. 

Your bowl is a shield, 

made to break, but never to break down.