An ode to the lone Chinese fortune cookie on top of the microwave

Your plastic wrapping crinkles
each time I move and move and move
you again,
attempting to find your ideal place-
out of the way but still at the forefront of our minds.

You will never be eaten, only relocated
until we deem it to have been
“too long”
or we explore whether we
“even really like these”
or we
“can’t even remember when we ordered.”

But the fortunes you bring will not
go unread,
merely discarded after months of existing
as a seemingly necessary kitchen fixture.


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