Came on the birthday of a dozen Facebook friends.
Came like fast food at the drive-thru window.
Came like forwarded junk mail,
like a gift shirt someone thought might fit.
Came like the robocall about the cruise no one wants or wins,
a punchline that forgot its joke,
the calendar’s next blank day.
Came crawling like a cockroach from the shower drain.
Came while I was deciding: New Yorker or Netflix?
When poked, felt fake, like cheap cake gone stale on a styrofoam plate.