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

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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