The art of cheese making, or caseiculture,


If you so happen to be, a culinary culture vulture,


Uses methods of production, that are to me most disturbing,


Yet cheese​​ lovers find them, not in the least bit perturbing.



The more unusual the better, made with methods unique,


Inducing excitement, their interest this piques.



Cheese made with bacteria, cousins of the ilk found in armpits and feet


These cheese mad​​ people, are happy to eat


Who would have thought, that such repulsive bacteria,


Instead of aversion, generates widespread, hedonistic hysteria.



Cheese made with maggots, the excrement of a mite


Are cheeses these people wolf down with delight.



Enzymes​​ used in production, sourced from animals' bile,


This they are fine with, they don’t find it vile.


Cheese so pungent, it was banned from public transportation


Yet they pay excessive amounts, for its continued creation



Cheeses left in caves, to rot and​​ decay


Yet for which people are only too happy to pay


As they place them on boards, they induce salivation

As they slide over their taste buds, a sense of elation


Delectable delicacies, food fit for Gods


In such demand, they pay over the odds.




All of those disgusting facts, cheese lovers seem some how to stomach,


However there is one cheese, for which it seems,


Their tolerance does plummet.



An utterance of its name is enough to repulse,


Their stomachs immediately and violently convulse,


Of​​ it they do not speak, of it they do not talk,


For to do so, would cause them to reach and to baulk.




Yet it differs so little, its made in much the same way,


​​ In a tightly sealed container, it’s curdled for days


Naturally crafted, organically​​ churned, and refined


Yet it is eschewed by all cheese lovers, most vehemently maligned.




They’ll eat all other disgusting cheeses, with relish and with ease,


But there’s no place on their cheeseboard, for a bit of fresh knob cheese.

















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