we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars

Monday, 24 November 2008

a poem

This is a poem I wrote when I was about eleven, with a friend at One Day School - a school I went to one day each week that was for gifted and talented children.

As you can tell, I had a cheese fetish.

What a strange child I was.

Bread's ever-faithful friend.
Never named,
As staple food or wholesome snack
But always there,
In slices or blocks or cubes.

What if cheese
Did away with mild reputation,
Displeased with second place.
No longer would he sit upon
Ciabata, baguette, or plain white loaf.
Demanded he, that noble cheese,
His own place on the plate.

How would such news be taken,
By cheese's glutenous chum?
Abandoned by the only one,
With the creamy capability,
To turn his blandness to pure bliss?

Deserted by a culinary world.
Yellow, now, is in vogue -
So different from bread's bland
White and grey and brown.

Cheese, now in the spotlight,
Recognized as staple food, as wholesome snack,
His creamy capabilities,
Looked upon with awe,
As he sits, content,
On his own place on the plate.

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