Haiku

Mizithra tastes good
On linguini with pesto
It’s cheese of the gods

Limburger, I hear,
Tastes pretty good, if you can
Get it in your mouth

Cheese Poem #4

Cheese is ambrosia; It makes me into a god. So hard, like a bass guitar Falling on your head, Or soft, like a baby’s head. Given me by Apollo, Made from divine milk, It takes me to Olympus. It calls me to it: Come! I will comfort thee! And I will go to it, When I have time, But it is not special. But its smell is strong, Like majestic mouldy socks And I am unencantenated. It calls me again, but oddly: Close thine eyes, and while Thou sleepest, heaven Will change thy fortune From evil to good. I try to close my ears, But its call is like The Siren. Then it stops; I am me again.