Bacon (an acrostic poem)

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Bring on all that smoked pork awesomeness

And let me eat till I want to oink

Can I get an amen, my piggy people?

Oh you might say I am a hog for engorging myself on the crispy pieces of heaven, and you would be correct

Now that being said, does this desire make me a cannibal?

Corn (an acrostic poem)

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Crispy fluffy white popped kernels pour out of the kettle

Obscene amounts of liquid butter soon flow over the alabaster landscape slightly seasoned with salt

Releasing that signature smell in the air that screams movie time

Now for the show that is me consuming of this mountain of magnificence

Crispy (an acrostic poem)

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Crunching on this piece of Nashville hot fried chicken

Relishing in the heat and texture dancing in my mouth

It is a spiritual experience to be sure

So much noise and so much spice

Perhaps I should have gotten that milkshake after all

Yeppers, as my mouth begins to erupt, yes, I should have

Toast (an acrostic poem)

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The realization that you are burnt out

Oh, and you know that the whole thing is just beginning

And that’s why you feel so crusty

So butter up, buttercup, and take a deep breath

Then when you feel less crispy take another bite.

Crispy (an acrostic poem)

Crunching greasy fried chicken

Reveling in the horribleness of it all

It was like the sound was a delectable spice

Satisfying something deep and primal

Pushing mere sustenance into something heaven sent

Yet also devil spawn for the grease stains on my shirt

 

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Crispy (an acrostic poem)

Chicken crunched satisfyingly as she chomped down

Relishing the fatty juices playing with her tongue

It made her soul dance with joy

So it surprised her when Bill complained about her chewing

Perhaps he needed to be breaded and deep-fried

Yes, that would make him more palatable

 

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