In a world where carcinogens poison the breeze, 

And our culture's decidedly hairy, 

I thought I might bury a shedful of cheese, 

And escape Armageddon through dairy. 

The crops may collapse and the planet may roast, 

As we farm only hate and division, 

But I'll eke out my solace from Cheddar on toast 

While awaiting the comet's collision. 

Once the rubble has cleared and the flames died away, 

I'll unearth my cheesy collection. 

I'll melt them together, a titan of whey, 

And a vintage post-human confection. 

Some call me a madman for planning such schemes, 

A prophet, a fraud or a funster. 

But I'll be the one I have seen in my dreams: 

The creator of Frankenstein's Munster.