midnight jazz club

canned tomato

i roll in soups of my own blood

my sweats, my tears

encaged in walls of aluminum

how could i have tell

how could i have known of tins

of steel

i was born in soils

i was meant to be free

to see leaves falling of wind breeze

to feel the sun raising me

now i drown in salts and acids

i haven't seen light for weeks

supposedly keeps me from spoiling but it hurts

it burns

my plumps are of chemical and chlorides

everything i am is on a shelf

a handgrab away from death

boiled dry, swallowed, become feces

once again become one with the ground

they named me tomato in a can

but what if i can't

what if im a can't tomato