He showed up on America’s Got Talent
But the judges were just NOT about it
One X after another until all four lit up
He had to stop then, it seemed — to give up
But wait
The crowd — they’re on their feet
They shout — they loved his funky beat
They scream out for the judges’ defeat
They love the song so much they scream
“Par-me-san!”
“Par-me-san!”
“Par-me-san!”
Even though I usually forgot it
Here are reasons I like cash in my pocket
Street performers who create delight
Hungry humans who need some food tonight
Broke humans who’d like a cigarette or two
Artists offering whatever beautiful thing they do
Chocolate shops with edible works of art
Parking spots that aren’t yet smart
Street carts selling cheese eclairs
And not yet friends who need bus fare
Even though I usually forgot it
Here are reasons I like cash in my pocket
Today was a good day
Today I opened my eyes
From a soft, warm bed
Today a symphony of rain
Played on the roof overhead
Today I had nachos with
Beans and shredded cheese
I drank water from a tap
As much as I pleased
And today I was loved
I had everything I could need
I don’t want to jump in the cold Black Lake
I didn’t sign up to be part of this race!
That’s what I’d have said if I were Harry
I’m not going near those mermaids – they’re scary!
Here Dobby, I’d say, keep your gillyweed
I’ll watch from the dock – could you bring me some cheese?
…
The cheese poet and the sloth
They are the same
Neither are trying
To win someone’s race
Both choose to move
At their own perfect pace
You might call them lazy
As you pass on your way
They can’t hear you over
The sound of a peaceful day
I don’t like seafood
Can you smother in cheese and
leave out the seafood?
Sometimes you don’t want cheese
Instead, you want something sweet
Obviously this doesn’t mean
You don’t like cheese anymore
People are like this too
It’s almost never about you
Try to remember it’s true
You’re definitely adorable
Leave me
One cube, one
Very large cube of
Enchanting, extraordinary cheese
It’s rare to see me without a hat
People say, “You have hair!”
”I had no idea what was under there!”
They ask, “What’s with the hats?”
And maybe they expect a story
I’m afraid to say, though, my answer is boring
I wear a lot of hats for the same
Reason I write poems about cheese
It makes me happy
It doesn’t hurt anyone
And it makes me happy
I think humanity could use more of that
Poems About Cheese 