POETRY

Don’t Say Cheese

A poem about dairy produce

Heaven, or hell? (Photo by Azzedine Rouichi on Unsplash)

There is no cheese in the house.
It was not taken by a mouse.
Should it be taken by myself
As a prompt to now embark
On a late Veganuary?
Was I subconsciously letting go
My fromage fixe mentality?

Or simply that the corner shop
Sells processed, pallid blocks
Like paint congealed
At the bottom of the pot,
And I did not have time
To buy elsewhere?

Whatever the whys,
The fact remains:
There is no cheese in the house.

So shall I go cold Taleggio?
Salve my conscience,
Starve my dependence,
Spare the suffering dairy herds?
I think I might.

But if I must submit
And place my cheesehead
On the chopping board,
Allow me one last meal before I do!