Gruyere
Thinking of speech and the gruyere sliver
balancing on that blade, which nouns push it over,
which hold it in place. How simplicity defies the complex.
Like the hard-crusted bread of flour, water, salt and yeast.
The elemental surge. A little steam. An incantation
born of emptiness: he speaks but says nothing
as the cheese teeters on the edge, suffering
the plight of the incomprehensible. Funny
that adding more reduces the whole, and less
flavors it. A few words, a spice. A syllable.
Milk and rennet. Verbs. A confident tongue.
O at the Edges 
A favorite cheese … and darn good poem! Nice combo.
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Thanks, Jazz. One of my favorites, too, especially when well aged.
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To cheese or not to cheese?
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That is never the question in my house, but which cheese might be!
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i love cheese, so i am somewhat pleased the price of it here is extortionate, so i don’t get fat scoffing my face.
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I counter my piggish ways by purchasing small pieces. Of course I can’t seem to control the number of small pieces…
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Love Gruyere spread on your tasty words.š
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I love the hard and flaky stuff – a little bite of gruyere, a grape, a sip of wine. Nothing better!
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Okay Robert! Instead of spreading gruyere, I will try your tasty words with a soft goat cheese.
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Now you’re talking!
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Mmm iām drooling …
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There’s always time for cheese!
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