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