Canned Soup
Maybe, we should put more things in cans.
We’d all feel better then.
Food doesn’t appear for us on a steaming plate.
It piles up in our pantries.
When I get home,
Cans get stacked, neatly.
Maybe tomorrow,
I’ll make that tomato soup.
The can will dance until the top twists open on the edge of the counter.
Laughing, dancing.
I could be happy if I wanted.
Maybe I’ll make the canned pasta instead.
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