Remaineth There No Sustenance?

When runneth dry the saucy can

And breadbag bread containeth not

And sitteth there no spam in pan

And standeth same no broth in pot

And dwindleth sharp the butter dish

And wasteth 'way the carrot stalk

And waiteth there no tuna fish

And useless hangs the cookman's frock

And vacant sits the cutting board

And empty stands the cereal box

And crumbs fall not upon the floor

And hardeneth the salt as rocks

Then looketh I upon the shelf

And see-eth I with gloomy art

That planneth must I for my self

A trip tomorrow to Walmart