Imagine a tornado made of beans,
that orange wind searing
against formerly blue skies,
small pellets pinging outwards
and splatting on you and building alike.

You cannot understand the absurdness,
a tornado of baked beans and
nary a slice of toast in sight?
This is not your nightmare,
nay, neither a dream.

If the beans, (not really tomato flavoured),
(they say it but I disagree), twist
any faster, they might collapse,
and this tunnel of food
becomes a tsunami of sauce.

I am fairly alarmed here.