NaPoWriMo Catch-up: The Ballad of Big Jeez Cheeses (& their Big Cheese Jesus)

The folks at Big Jeez Cheeses
were known throughout the land
for the statue of a big cheese Jesus

with outstretched cheddar hands
that towered above their factory
in central Birmingham. 

Some said that it was blasphemy,
and others, bad for hygiene, 
a dairy-based atrocity,

its gleaming lactose sheen
a runny, whiffy parody
of the radiant Nazarene. 

'I've heard of the odour of sanctity,'
a passing priest remarked,
'but I don't think it meant rancid brie -

this statue makes me barf!'
And so the council summoned all
those with religious smarts:

Rabbis, imams, cardinals
and also Richard Dawkins
who heard that theological

things were being talked of
and decided this should not be done
without the God Delusion author.

'It's clear this must be overcome,'
Old Dawkins told the council.
'But in a way that's right for Brum!'

A Sufi scholar countered. 
'Perhaps someone could eat the thing?'
Archbishop Welby counselled.

'But who,' a rabbi pondered, 'is renowned for weird eating, 
connected with this town,
and has no gigs scheduled this season?'

So Dawks assumed his usual frown, 
the scholars all looked busy,
'til their sole Wiccan shouted out

'I know! We'll get Ozzy!'
So Mr Osbourne and his bandmates
consumed the cheese monstrosity

to demonstrate the thesis
that ultimately rock 'n' rollers
are bigger than Jesus

(if he's made of gorgonzola).