Miss Easy Cheese
Miriam put up a G. K. Chesterton quote that begs the question: Why don't poets write about cheese? Not being one to shirk from such a challenge, I think I have an answer. And besides that, it's been a couple months since I've 'cheese-blogged'. Sure I suppose you could argue that everything I write is 'cheese' but nothing else will ever come close to this.
First off, we must examine the purpose of poetry. If we steal from "The Dead Poets' Society" we learn from the character of Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) that "language was developed for one endeavor, and that is?" "To woo women."
According to Webster's Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language (Thunder Bay Press, San Diego: 2001), poetry is "1. the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative or elevated thoughts. 2. literary work in metrical form; verse."
Wow. Wooing women by 'exciting pleasure by beautiful verse'.
That is certainly a lofty goal. I for one must heartily agree that I am all for exciting pleasure in women. The difficulty now is; how can we relate cheese to our nefarious purpose? Is cheese romantic? Is it awe inspiring? Does it have any inspirationally attractive qualities? Can it be used effectively as a metaphor? Do women melt or swoon for it in any way? Has a big red wax covered wheel of sharp cheddar ever made you want to throw your lover down and shag like a pair of drunk minks in rut?
The answer to all of these questions can only be -
No. Or at least, not any of the women I would want to romance. I shouldn't say not any. There is one. So for her, I present this:
First off, we must examine the purpose of poetry. If we steal from "The Dead Poets' Society" we learn from the character of Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) that "language was developed for one endeavor, and that is?" "To woo women."
According to Webster's Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language (Thunder Bay Press, San Diego: 2001), poetry is "1. the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative or elevated thoughts. 2. literary work in metrical form; verse."
Wow. Wooing women by 'exciting pleasure by beautiful verse'.
That is certainly a lofty goal. I for one must heartily agree that I am all for exciting pleasure in women. The difficulty now is; how can we relate cheese to our nefarious purpose? Is cheese romantic? Is it awe inspiring? Does it have any inspirationally attractive qualities? Can it be used effectively as a metaphor? Do women melt or swoon for it in any way? Has a big red wax covered wheel of sharp cheddar ever made you want to throw your lover down and shag like a pair of drunk minks in rut?
The answer to all of these questions can only be -
No. Or at least, not any of the women I would want to romance. I shouldn't say not any. There is one. So for her, I present this:
Miss Easy Cheese
When I see her in the aisle
she's the one that makes me smile.
They put her high up on the shelf
I'll bring her down just for myself.
It's amazing how she makes me feel
with my warm hands on her cold steel.
I imagine her taste, so smooth and nice
But first I've got to pay her price.
I'll take her home in my car
Hold on baby, it's not far.
Now through the garage and into the house,
I'm not sharin' with any mouse.
Off with her top and push that nubbin'
there's the creamy goodness that I'm lovin'
Straight into my mouth, I'll make her spray.
Oh My God! I love it this way!
And the hotter she gets, the more easily spreadable,
edible, bedable, and not regrettable
'cept for the cracker crumbs that make me itch
'cuz I'm talkin about Easy Cheese, you sick son-of-a-bitch!
When I see her in the aisle
she's the one that makes me smile.
They put her high up on the shelf
I'll bring her down just for myself.
It's amazing how she makes me feel
with my warm hands on her cold steel.
I imagine her taste, so smooth and nice
But first I've got to pay her price.
I'll take her home in my car
Hold on baby, it's not far.
Now through the garage and into the house,
I'm not sharin' with any mouse.
Off with her top and push that nubbin'
there's the creamy goodness that I'm lovin'
Straight into my mouth, I'll make her spray.
Oh My God! I love it this way!
And the hotter she gets, the more easily spreadable,
edible, bedable, and not regrettable
'cept for the cracker crumbs that make me itch
'cuz I'm talkin about Easy Cheese, you sick son-of-a-bitch!
posted by prairie biker at 8:00 AM
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