Spam Like The Canned Meat

this is not spam. this is a poem. ~thank you~ .-.

spam like the canned me that isn't bacon is it really
am I canned yes I am yes I listen to a trip swim with me you'll see what I mean
stop me I can't see the signs wait I do I am not blind but I wish
these wishes on the stars, far above in space, oh darling
wishes are useless, like umbrellas, like your mom
oh snap.
did this poem really have any purpose at all?
did it really? or is it all a bunch of gibberish?