Canned Dreams

Spaghetti dreams
that I can fly,
I can fly,
I can fly
far away.

Hoops and engines
drowning in a
sun red,
for which
it was I
who bled,
tomato sauce. (Of some sort.)

If I could
but only fly.

I can fly,
I can.

If I close my eyes
and dream
and dream.

No cans
gathered,
to get in my way

to block out
a ray.

I fly.

Surely I must.