To Editors of the World

Yodel said: "Oh editors, please eat my cheese;

Please bore more holes through my cheese,

So that I may see more clearly."

Multa said: "How can you be so sarcastic?"

Yodel disappeared into the Alps to make more cheese.

Multa said: "The Alps? People certainly make cheese in other places, too. Why the Alps?"

Yodel returned to being milk, and then grass.

Multa said: "How unscientific. And distasteful."

Yodel was never a thing; it has always been and will be a voice, a harp singing in the wind.