Cheese Please

One planet in a nearby solar system

Once covered with healthy green trees

Which grew in special soil

Covering all well down neath their roots

Was completely composed of delicious cheese

 

As the population exploded

To further exploit the delicious cheese soil

The trees were all hacked down

With the cheeseaters population eating

Every miniscule cheese bit they found

 

When all easily accessed cheese had been consumed

All that which was beneath the now barren ground

That down beneath the giant skyscrapers

Down neath endless rows of housing

And beneath those Cheeseater’s fancy cars

All constantly driving over endless roads

That once connected the towns

With long cheese roadways

After all that and more

Those Cheeseater’s began excavating

 

Billions of desperate cheeseaters

Brought in deep-well digging equipment

To dig trillions of cheese wells

Which, when they went dry

Were then fracked

To eek each little itty bit of cheese

From out of the shattered ground

Which, as a result, decayed, crumbled and shattered

 

Every roadway sank into empty cheese holes

Sinking skyscrapers became homes for just moles

Fresh air was clogged with, cheese dust from fracked cheese mines

To which, the planet of desperate cheeseaters, just couldn’t adjust

The once great planet of brand after brand of scrumptious cheese

Where all life had seen nary a disease

Became nothing but a fracking fractured, barren, raped, cheese-mine, pock- marked, rock

A rock where there was no longer even the slightest possibility of getting either macaroni and cheese, a welch-rarebit, or even a tasty, toasted cheese sandwich for breakfast, lunch, or for a quick bite of cheese oriented supper after a hard day of hopelessly re-digging further down into what had become, empty cheese-mineshafts, dug by a bone weary, cheese-starved, thin, frail, decaying population, constantly looking for even the tiniest hint of the possibility of more cheese, all of which was a complete waste of time because these simple-minded cheese desperates just would not face the reality of there being no more cheese to be found, anywhere, not even being sold on craigslist or at garage sales, or at any other location where it might have been hidden away in a heartless, self-serving effort, even in spite of the suffering of these simple minded souls who would eat nothing but a cheese enhanced meal, to hold these sad, sorry cheese- eaters at ransom, by charging outrageously exorbitant prices for each bit of hoarded cheese, in an effort to realize billions of dollars of profit

By an unscrupulous Shylock.

 

 

Author's Note

more foolishness
It replaces drinking, smoking and some swearing

Reviews

[Marie]

Wow! I never knew there was so much one could say about cheese, but your amazing poem has told me in no uncertain terms that the subject of cheese is endless! Having a rather bad allergy to cheese, I have never tasted its many delightful products. Superb inking! Love your excellent choice of graphic which complements the poem so very well. Everything has shot up in price since Covid graced our world. Nothing coming down but the rain :) Thank you so very much for sharing your remarkable and very enjoyable poem, dear poet...

[Dave Brown]

Thanks for your thoughts on my bit of foolishness
Unfortunately, in our usually rainy area, we are currently getting little to none
Could mean problems ahead
Thanks for the visit

[Marie]

Most welcome, dear poet.
Rain in Ireland also, in spite of it being Summer!
Problems ahead for farmers here sowing crops due to all the rain.
Wishing you a very nice rest of the day, dear poet and hope the sun shines warmly and brightly for you to enjoy...

[Chris Shaw]

Yep, the price of cheese has gone sky high. A basic ingredient, yet now costly. Someone is making a packet and it ain’t cheese, more like gold. Maybe it’s the new cheese rush. Where do you get your inspiration from lol.

I like a toasted cheese sarney too. Happy Monday Mr Brown.

Chris

[Dave Brown]

You caught me with that one, I'd never heard of a sarney
I am mostly inclined toward a simple toasted sandwich complimented by a sliced apple, followed by a walk through the park on a star lit evening with my loved one and our sweet puppy, followed by the three of us settling down on our comfortable loveseat to watch another program of "Move to the Country!!"
I hope you enjoy a pleasant late aft. and evening.

[Chris Shaw]

A sarney is a sandwich. What lovely days you share with your loved ones and watching Move to the Country. We have a distinct shortage of housing over here. Bring your own tent:)