A Poem about Cheese

Sometime last fall, my son and I were playing the video game “Civilization VI,” which (as the name suggests) is a civilization-building game. Various junctures of the game feature quotes, and this particular fall day, the quote was from GK Chesterton: “Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.” 

I laughed aloud…typical Chesterton. But I also thought, Challenge accepted, and started plotting a poem about cheese. What follows is a step toward breaking the poetic silence on cheese, one I hope will inspire others. “A Poem about Cheese” will be in my upcoming book, The Anonymity of Waiting.

P.S. I’m curious to see if anyone can catch all the cheese related idioms and allusions. List what you find in the comments!

A Poem about Cheese

“Poets have been mysteriously silent 
on the subject of cheese.” ~GK Chesterton

For lunch one day, I thought I’d make a bowl
of macaroni and peas.  I searched the whole
kitchen and found the noodles, butter, and cream,
but not the peas.  “WHO MOVED MY PEAS?” I screamed.

I looked again.  I found no peas. I did
find fleas and crackers in the corner of
a cupboard. So I made a grocery list
of peas and flea bombs, jumped in my car, and drove
downtown to Stilton’s Grocery, which did have
flea bombs but not one pea, if you can believe
it.  Stunned, I walked outside and stared at air
when Mona (the town lush) walked up, her hair
scribbled above makeup more smeared than a bad
imitation of Monet’s “Water Lilies”.  “Hey,
whasswrongwithyew?” she slurred.  I blinked away
my stare.  “They have no peas! NO PEAS! How sad
is that??” I trailed off helplessly. “Well, all
Igottosellis wineansleaze!”  She laughed
and fluttered a dangling, displaced fake eye lash.
Wide eyed, I walked away. “Seeyarounddoll!”
she called.  My brain grew cloudy as I strode
to my car.  Just then, a flash of brilliance struck:
I’d see if Brie’s Cafe would sell a pack
of peas to me.  I darted ‘cross the road.

The little bell rang as I pushed the door
wide.  “Brie!” I called.  I saw her head appear
in the serving hatch.  “What can I do ya for?”
she smiled.  “Will ya sell me some peas?”  I fear
I sounded desperate.  “What??” she cocked her head.
Her red curls bungeed to her apron straps.
“Peas?”  “Yes, it’s a long, long story,” I sighed.
“I’m out.”  She shrugged and scrunched her nose, then slapped
the air with her spatula. With a joyful shout,
she slammed the spatula on the grill and shrieked,
“I got him!”  Then she smiled and said, “I’m out
of peas, but I can sell you a nice grilled bees
sandwich! I’ve been trying to kill that pest
for days!”  I didn’t speak.  Then Brie glanced down
and muttered, “I guess I’ll have to clean that now.”
I slunk back toward my car so I could rest
my addled brain.  But on the way, I saw
a little girl in rainbow tights who paused
to pose for a pic.  Her mom said, “Say peas!”  “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??”  I rounded on the squat,
shocked lady in her flower print dress. “DON’T
YOU KNOW YOUR IDIOMS??  WHAT’S NEXT?  I S’POSE
YOU’LL SAY THE MOON IS MADE OF TREES!”  My rant
just echoed round her cave like mouth.  I groaned
then stalked back to my car.  I sat and laid
my head against the steering wheel.  But like 
a whack-a-mole, my head popped up: there might
be peas in my pantry!  Soon, I reached Brook Lane
and parked in front of my house.  I ran inside,
threw wide the pantry door, and there I saw
a putrid mouse in a trap.  But right beside
it—O, for joy!—a bag of peas!  Hurrah!

Though even as my smile flashed, it changed
to lightning’s jagged blade and stabbed me in 
the gut: the bag had nibble marks, and in
amongst the peas were droppings. For some strange
reason this cooled my rage.  I laughed.  “It’s true:
the second mouse really does get the peas.”
Back in the kitchen I grabbed a pot and threw
the macaroni in its watery
grave.  After it boiled, I served it up.  I chewed
it slowly, meditatively, and mused
about Mona, the mom, and me.  We three
were just as similar as chalk and skis.

What else did folks add to macaroni?
Without the peas, it was like a bowl of paste.
Hmmm, Macaroni and……my blank mind raced:
Mac and…mac and….it just wouldn’t come to me.