“How much is left?” I asked lily. We were submerged in darkness, the only light came from the small fire cooking our food. I could hear it crackling from here.
“Not much” she told me grimly as she looked through all the canned food around her. She gripped her hair tightly in frustration and let of a muffled cry “I hope this stupid apocalypse ends soon” she spat out
“it will” I told her softly as moans sounded outside, screams and shadows running past our little house.
Can you can it, this perfect day, the number of glances met with sparkling-eyed people, the shimmer of silver across the sea, the happy faces and the scores of children chattering like birds, the young seals spiraling down into the bay- can it and keep on a shelf? It might be useful in February
She went up to the counter with her lustful eyes searching his sight. All of a sudden, her search ended when a figure materialized in front of her.
“Erm…canned beans and…coke, please,” she said in a flurried sort of tone.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
Canned goods are important. At least, that’s what I was told throughout elementary and middle school. You know? Collecting canned food for the poor, for those who couldn’t buy meals for themselves or their children. I thought it was funny, in an ironic kind of way. I’m poor, too! I can’t afford to give you my food when I live with seven other people.
the moment im ready to open my mouth,
im canned, by reality, by the judgement of a stranger;
she wont disclose much, due to my approach,
but all I can do is strive
strive the same way to do for her insatiable affection,
the way I do for a dollar stringed from a fishing-pole!
Wake up pull the sheets from your curves this is a special day. a day like this will never come again. today we drink the thick syrupy preserving juice from the cans of canned pinto beans. We keep on drinking until on us throws up.
The lawyer got canned because it was discovered that he had been having an affair with not one but two of his secretaries. To be fair, both of his secretaries were quite beautiful and resisting them would clearly have been unreasonable.
I was canned. If I haven’t had brought him with me I never would have gotten caught. Now I’m ducking through fences and swerving through alleys not to get arrested.
He was all apologies and ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, doing his best imitation of kicked puppy. She laughed in his face and bowled over when his mouth dropped open and he could only blink.
I am never sure what I will find in canned foods. I mean besides the food on the outisde of the can itself. You never know what chemicals and additives they put in those things…I am not a conpiracy theorist or anything or maybe I am.
I sat there feeling canned.
Canned inside, darkness all around
Preserving myself for whom? Or what….
This is my life, my temperament. I feel trapped, my freshness replaced by
The beans were not canned properly. The can was slightly open and water was leaking, it smelled. The budget of the beans company must have been canned. poor bean company. lets all raise 2 dollars for them. yalla
I was put into a can like so much tuna. I’m not sure how it happened. One moment I was minding my own business and walking down the street and the next I was scooped up by some intergalactic trawling space ship. Now I know how the fishes feel. It’s too late for me to make any changes though. Such is life.
one word takes away the time astray to say the tame to trade the same
to canned unwrapped to wish unwrapped to think to thought two too to wit
i miss the kisses the trist, but nothing better than the twist
love on the times trick trips to the coffee the tame
the tuna tasted so good, like it was freshly caught by brave souls ventureing out on the ocean in little boats. turned out the tuna was out of a can, a can. It was caught by big ships with machines
closed shaped irate
smiles something smushed in space
can canned in the mind scan
the brain reacts to wheat
gluten glue not tons forget
forgive for love or not
brutally smiling busted beguiling
don’t await my wake for dates
don’t fall in love or walk away
to stay with me the games we play
“Dude, your family’s got the weirdest shit in the kitchen,” Deon commented over the television’s background chatter. “Never even heard of half that stuff. Can’t even tell what half of it even is. Glad I don’t live here, man, imagine my looking for lunch in THAT Pandora’s Box of a pantry.” He good-naturedly elbowed Santiago in the ribs. “I’d probably end up opening a literal can of worms, am I right?”
“That or a can of wormholes,” Santiago mumbled from where he was sprawled across the motheaten couch, eyes locked on the TV as he rubbed his side absentmindedly. “We’ve got enough of those too.”
Deon let out a huff of laughter. “Psh, yeah, that would be a nightmare! Imagine: You get the munchies and end up halfway across the galaxy.”
Santiago glared up at him through a curtain of rusty dreads. “It’s no laughing matter, bro.”
“Dude. Chill,” the bro in question reassured him. “They don’t even make canned wormholes, except maybe in bad sci-fi films. You’re not gonna end up stranded on Alpha Centauri for misreading a label. That’s literally impossible.”
A canned box of salmon with dill and sour cream christmas, I hope christmas is really specail this year. I hope that I have my life together by Christmas and am in a really special PhD program God I hope I don’t have to take the GRE Dannele is taking the GRE can I study with her? I am afraid of getting canned from a job, let me be honest I am afraid of getting turned down or fired for pretty much anything. Dear God please help me actually achieve something and create my life. I’m thirty, isn’t everything supposed to be put together by now?
The food was canned and packed away in the garden that was the grandmother’s closet, probably to never be seen again.
Caiden always hated going to his grandmother’s house, and it was because she was such a . . . well, a PSYCHO. For whatever reason, she wanted to horde every can food and snack bar and piece of cheese that she got her hands on, no matter what the expiration date said (really, she had a Campbell’s soup can dating back to 2002), all in the name of surviving the apocalypse.
Again, that sound. The canned laughter that just seemed to never end. He looked around and saw nothing but white walls. He clutched his head. It stopped. The relief was sweet and he relished in it until…again, canned laughter.
I remember it well. We were at a party with friends and someone had the brilliant idea to paint the bathroom black. next we new all the adventurers were visiting to line up with the ever powder pile of wisdom. We all got canned………
I opened the door to the cellar only to find my way blocked off by several stacks of canned goods. Well, not stacks – that wasn’t a word that served the image enough. The mountains – nay, towers – of aluminum cylinders boasting everything from corn to spinach to dried oranges were like metal monoliths to some sort of crazed, survivalist zombie-fearing god.
I broke through the boarded building while scavenging. It’s an eat or be eaten world and there better be some damn rations. I walk downstairs to the cellar when I hear a pinging metallic sound creeping closer and closer.
it stops at my feet, I pick up an old tin of canned peaches “What the hell-”
My surroundings went black. The next thing I know I wake up tied in a cell with a fiery pain in my side.
She opened her cupboard to find empty jars. Time to get canning, she thought. Pulling out her biggest stock pan, she boiled some water and placed the jars in to sterilise. Canned peaches? Canned tomatoes? Maybe some pickles, or marmalade…
The kitchen was a mess when her husband walked through the door. What are you doing? He asked, afraid of the answer.
Canning some vegetables and fruits I think. Was her reply. She really had no idea what she was doing. Maybe she should have used magic for this project after all.
anything with too much salt…laughter that is insincere…something that is preconceived but not in it’s natural form anymore…altered (and not in a good way)…finding that one minute is a long time
She was canned. Her screw up was too much this time for the paper and with the big lawsuit that was now being charged against them, they could not risk having her employed with them any longer. She begged, pleaded, even cried (unprofessionally), but they would not budge. It was too late.
Wow, canned foods are gross. I once had this brand of canned food that was supposed to be ravioli and it tasted lked cat food (not that I know what that really tastes like) anyways It was GROSS, I threw up!!! I will never eat Chef Boyardee again.
The pantry contained several rusted cans: peaches, boiled potatoes, string beans. There were even stewed tomatoes, though time had done a number on the can and the acidic juice had eaten a hole through the exterior decades ago. The dusty floor was dappled with the dry, powdery stains of once-tomatoes.
After all the trouble he’d had just getting down there, he was no closer to finding edible food than he had been that morning.
A can of green food. Unidentifiable. Squishy. Tastes like vinegar. Yuck.
Canned spaghetti on a magic carpet. Dancing with a nefarious wombat down the road.
“How much is left?” I asked lily. We were submerged in darkness, the only light came from the small fire cooking our food. I could hear it crackling from here.
“Not much” she told me grimly as she looked through all the canned food around her. She gripped her hair tightly in frustration and let of a muffled cry “I hope this stupid apocalypse ends soon” she spat out
“it will” I told her softly as moans sounded outside, screams and shadows running past our little house.
Can you can it, this perfect day, the number of glances met with sparkling-eyed people, the shimmer of silver across the sea, the happy faces and the scores of children chattering like birds, the young seals spiraling down into the bay- can it and keep on a shelf? It might be useful in February
She went up to the counter with her lustful eyes searching his sight. All of a sudden, her search ended when a figure materialized in front of her.
“Erm…canned beans and…coke, please,” she said in a flurried sort of tone.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
Just another day. Nothing new.
Canned goods are important. At least, that’s what I was told throughout elementary and middle school. You know? Collecting canned food for the poor, for those who couldn’t buy meals for themselves or their children. I thought it was funny, in an ironic kind of way. I’m poor, too! I can’t afford to give you my food when I live with seven other people.
Sorry, but the canned food stays with me.
the moment im ready to open my mouth,
im canned, by reality, by the judgement of a stranger;
she wont disclose much, due to my approach,
but all I can do is strive
strive the same way to do for her insatiable affection,
the way I do for a dollar stringed from a fishing-pole!
omg, what is canned? A image came up to me that somebody is canned in a can, like be enveloped by something and can not move.
Wake up pull the sheets from your curves this is a special day. a day like this will never come again. today we drink the thick syrupy preserving juice from the cans of canned pinto beans. We keep on drinking until on us throws up.
The lawyer got canned because it was discovered that he had been having an affair with not one but two of his secretaries. To be fair, both of his secretaries were quite beautiful and resisting them would clearly have been unreasonable.
I was canned. If I haven’t had brought him with me I never would have gotten caught. Now I’m ducking through fences and swerving through alleys not to get arrested.
He was all apologies and ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, doing his best imitation of kicked puppy. She laughed in his face and bowled over when his mouth dropped open and he could only blink.
stopped. stopped from growth, stopped from productivity. Getting canned is painful to all living things.
I am never sure what I will find in canned foods. I mean besides the food on the outisde of the can itself. You never know what chemicals and additives they put in those things…I am not a conpiracy theorist or anything or maybe I am.
peas
canned got shu down, cancelled, fired, stopped
2 cans, 1 rope
just married
tuna
cat
dog
pets
stupid
canned… can opener?
metal
storage
I sat there feeling canned.
Canned inside, darkness all around
Preserving myself for whom? Or what….
This is my life, my temperament. I feel trapped, my freshness replaced by
The beans were not canned properly. The can was slightly open and water was leaking, it smelled. The budget of the beans company must have been canned. poor bean company. lets all raise 2 dollars for them. yalla
Canned food is useful. Cans can be used in Unturned to make a canteen.
I was put into a can like so much tuna. I’m not sure how it happened. One moment I was minding my own business and walking down the street and the next I was scooped up by some intergalactic trawling space ship. Now I know how the fishes feel. It’s too late for me to make any changes though. Such is life.
one word takes away the time astray to say the tame to trade the same
to canned unwrapped to wish unwrapped to think to thought two too to wit
i miss the kisses the trist, but nothing better than the twist
love on the times trick trips to the coffee the tame
“Ugh, I hate these canned and salted veggies. Do I have to eat them?”
“No don’t worry I will have them.”
“You like the stuff?”
“Yes, I like it.”
“You’re weird.”
“:Yes I am. Wait, what did you say?”
that was fun
the tuna tasted so good, like it was freshly caught by brave souls ventureing out on the ocean in little boats. turned out the tuna was out of a can, a can. It was caught by big ships with machines
closed shaped irate
smiles something smushed in space
can canned in the mind scan
the brain reacts to wheat
gluten glue not tons forget
forgive for love or not
brutally smiling busted beguiling
don’t await my wake for dates
don’t fall in love or walk away
to stay with me the games we play
canned beans in the cupboard.
Dusty like you.
old like how i see you.
old news
tin, recyclable.
“Dude, your family’s got the weirdest shit in the kitchen,” Deon commented over the television’s background chatter. “Never even heard of half that stuff. Can’t even tell what half of it even is. Glad I don’t live here, man, imagine my looking for lunch in THAT Pandora’s Box of a pantry.” He good-naturedly elbowed Santiago in the ribs. “I’d probably end up opening a literal can of worms, am I right?”
“That or a can of wormholes,” Santiago mumbled from where he was sprawled across the motheaten couch, eyes locked on the TV as he rubbed his side absentmindedly. “We’ve got enough of those too.”
Deon let out a huff of laughter. “Psh, yeah, that would be a nightmare! Imagine: You get the munchies and end up halfway across the galaxy.”
Santiago glared up at him through a curtain of rusty dreads. “It’s no laughing matter, bro.”
“Dude. Chill,” the bro in question reassured him. “They don’t even make canned wormholes, except maybe in bad sci-fi films. You’re not gonna end up stranded on Alpha Centauri for misreading a label. That’s literally impossible.”
A canned box of salmon with dill and sour cream christmas, I hope christmas is really specail this year. I hope that I have my life together by Christmas and am in a really special PhD program God I hope I don’t have to take the GRE Dannele is taking the GRE can I study with her? I am afraid of getting canned from a job, let me be honest I am afraid of getting turned down or fired for pretty much anything. Dear God please help me actually achieve something and create my life. I’m thirty, isn’t everything supposed to be put together by now?
The food was canned and packed away in the garden that was the grandmother’s closet, probably to never be seen again.
Caiden always hated going to his grandmother’s house, and it was because she was such a . . . well, a PSYCHO. For whatever reason, she wanted to horde every can food and snack bar and piece of cheese that she got her hands on, no matter what the expiration date said (really, she had a Campbell’s soup can dating back to 2002), all in the name of surviving the apocalypse.
Again, that sound. The canned laughter that just seemed to never end. He looked around and saw nothing but white walls. He clutched his head. It stopped. The relief was sweet and he relished in it until…again, canned laughter.
I remember it well. We were at a party with friends and someone had the brilliant idea to paint the bathroom black. next we new all the adventurers were visiting to line up with the ever powder pile of wisdom. We all got canned………
My beeris canned when all other things to be in place ,as I am going to a vacation to France,but my friend logo used the contexet
I opened the door to the cellar only to find my way blocked off by several stacks of canned goods. Well, not stacks – that wasn’t a word that served the image enough. The mountains – nay, towers – of aluminum cylinders boasting everything from corn to spinach to dried oranges were like metal monoliths to some sort of crazed, survivalist zombie-fearing god.
I broke through the boarded building while scavenging. It’s an eat or be eaten world and there better be some damn rations. I walk downstairs to the cellar when I hear a pinging metallic sound creeping closer and closer.
it stops at my feet, I pick up an old tin of canned peaches “What the hell-”
My surroundings went black. The next thing I know I wake up tied in a cell with a fiery pain in my side.
She opened her cupboard to find empty jars. Time to get canning, she thought. Pulling out her biggest stock pan, she boiled some water and placed the jars in to sterilise. Canned peaches? Canned tomatoes? Maybe some pickles, or marmalade…
The kitchen was a mess when her husband walked through the door. What are you doing? He asked, afraid of the answer.
Canning some vegetables and fruits I think. Was her reply. She really had no idea what she was doing. Maybe she should have used magic for this project after all.
Once in a blue moon it won’t hurt to eat canned food when there is nothing left.
anything with too much salt…laughter that is insincere…something that is preconceived but not in it’s natural form anymore…altered (and not in a good way)…finding that one minute is a long time
She was canned. Her screw up was too much this time for the paper and with the big lawsuit that was now being charged against them, they could not risk having her employed with them any longer. She begged, pleaded, even cried (unprofessionally), but they would not budge. It was too late.
I canned some pickles today, my friends thought i was slow
Wow, canned foods are gross. I once had this brand of canned food that was supposed to be ravioli and it tasted lked cat food (not that I know what that really tastes like) anyways It was GROSS, I threw up!!! I will never eat Chef Boyardee again.
The pantry contained several rusted cans: peaches, boiled potatoes, string beans. There were even stewed tomatoes, though time had done a number on the can and the acidic juice had eaten a hole through the exterior decades ago. The dusty floor was dappled with the dry, powdery stains of once-tomatoes.
After all the trouble he’d had just getting down there, he was no closer to finding edible food than he had been that morning.