Did someone say ode?
For the Love of Cheese
Photoshop has gotten strange.
It has a filter called Fromage
That turns all selfies and all landscapes
Into rich cheddar collage.
Rolling hills of golden grass
Now are wheels of butter brie,
The buildings, slabs of pepper jack,
Fondue becomes an oozing sea.
Hollywood transforms with cheese,
Tourists all look up and stare,
Hoping earthquakes send down tastes of
Buildings carved from Camembert.
They find the Mozarella Ocean,
Lay down nude with spoons and dream.
Who wants towels to protect from
Beaches spread with Philly cream?
They sit all night under the stars;
No one wants to pay for Hilton,
Knowing that the local parks
All have benches made from Stilton.
Some folks think of relocating,
Saving up their checks all year
For cottage cheese-made cottages
Or bungalows of smooth Paneer.
In dream houses scenes have changed,
The pillows stuffed with marscapone
Rest under quilts of squares of Swiss
On beds of Provolone.
And in the den, the Bluray’s gone
Replaced by walls of Shropshire Blue
Because the view is so much sharper,
And the colors far more true.
The kitchen is an afterthought–
Of all the food prepared, the most
Beloved dish is simply plates
Of softened hunks of pure Gejtost.
Garages are now near defunct.
No one needs to park Miatas--
Italian delis will deliver
Parmesan and smooth ricottas.
Turophiles adore this filter.
For food selfie sanity,
Photoshop has more than fostered
The non-cheese-lovers mutter, “Bored,”
But only they would say so.
It’s hard to keep it short when moved
By vats of dripping queso.
A moldy muse has formed my words,
I’m not to blame for every quote.
I’m knee deep in a bowl of curds,
Hopped up on wine and drunken goat…(burp!)…cheese.