Digesting Public Radio

I pour milk on dry cereal until it all
but vanishes leaving a few flakes
to form islands in a bowl-shaped gulf
rising above the flood until it sinks
and drowns with the rest of my soggy
breakfast before I can absorb the news.

I slice fresh zucchini bread fragrant
and moist with green and gold flecks
reflecting life-giving gardens laid out
on the toaster oven tray to heat again
and neglect until I smell smoke and see
only the black parched Amazon basin.

I fill the blender with fruit and yogurt
and forget the lid until it spins out of
control my healthy delicious smoothie
as Hurricane Dorian swirls around its
central blades to chew up and spit out
news of another drowned archipelago.

I turn the dial first thing in the morning
to find out what’s for breakfast today
and the switch pours electricity into
the wires to heat up the plate to catch
the sound waves ready to serve me
the last spoonfuls of life on Earth.