The Cheese, It's Everywhere
chapter 1, in which an urban scene is set and our unfortunate victim awakens
Oh, the night is brightly lit
Bathed in a city glow.
Above the skyline’s silhouette
A groggy Moon hangs low.
He yawns, he scratches, rubs his eyes,
And drools. He cannot know:
Before him lies an ugly death
At hands of mortal foe!
chapter 2, in which black skyscrapers loom over the pickpockets and prostitutes loitering in a sewer-lined alley, our sunglasses-and-trench-coat-clad heroine slips into a dim, unfurnished office, and is offered a contract killing from a suspicious hiring party
She takes the case, assassin on
Her strangest mission yet.
“The Moon must die before the dawn,”
The obese mob boss said.
Between his fattened lips he did bob
A stubby cigarette.
“Crime is frozen still until
that spying Moon is dead!”
chapter 3, in which our heroine ascends a high-rise hotel building alongside her dependable feline companion
Dressed in black, she bounds across
The jagged cityscape.
A darkened form clips at her heels,
A nimble feline shape.
They scale the walls of Rosewood Tower
‘til head and night sky scrape.
A rounded phase captures her gaze
The Moon cannot escape.
chapter 4, in which our heroine observes her dozing victim
He’s chubby, he’s pallid!
A yellow lump of dough.
He scratches twice, and skin flakes off
Like withering specks of snow.
His pock-marked skin is dry and thin
But shines with sleaze and grease.
She shines her knife to end the life
Of this man-sized wheel of cheese.
chapter 5, in which a murder is committed and our heroine’s trusty feline sidekick disposes of the remains
He screams— he shouts— a throaty howl
As she carves away his flesh.
She stuffs his mouth with hotel towels,
Shutting up the wretch.
The cat acts with a knowing meow
And packs the cheesy treats
Into a rough old burlap sack
that’s emptied on the street.
chapter 6, in which a horde of rodents eats the evidence
the Rats, the Rats! gray flowing forms,
Slip up through slitted sewer grates.
Each holds between his hungry jaws,
A fleshy yellow feast.
The evidence is pulverized
By 1000’s of tiny teeth.
The Moon’s hoarse screams are crushed beneath
Hundreds of tiny feet.
chapter 7, in which a city awakens
The old Moon’s snowy dandruff
blankets the sleeping citybed.
An orange forehead peeks above the ground;
The gray horizon glows a fuzzy red.
He yawns and stretches,
Rubs his eyes and drools. He cannot guess
Before him lies an ugly fate—
The Sun is always smothered in the west.
chapter next, in which it is implied that the whole thing happens again
The day drags itself forward.
Snow melts beneath the Sun’s cold stare.
She shines her knife