Ode to a Wendy's Spicy Chicken Sandwich

Awake, oh taste buds, awake,
And bask in the joyous flames of Hell!

Open, great jaws, open wide and do tell

A tale of a tender chick so spectacularly spicy.

Listen, old ears, and play for me a thunderous crunch;

Play me the sweet story of the sandy on which I munch.

Keep watch, murky eyes, don’t fail me now,

Signal my brain, doesn’t matter how.

Now, slender finger, without trepidation,

Scoop that mayo ‘fore it falls from this Godly creation.

Receive, grumbling stomach; my favorite receptacle,

For what’s coming your way is nothing short of a spectacle.

Lord! Behold! Such a righteous stack;

Its golden bun, gaily and delicately sauced,

Atop a fluffy garden, though the ‘berg’s not lost.

A simple duo of veggies well suits this snack.

Under that, is the golden idol.

Its suggestive breading is what makes the title.

For the juicy river of flavor that runs inside;

My lonely tongue, the only appropriate guide.

It rests on what was once a lowly bun, now mighty altar,

Transcended from white bread, now it cannot falter.

Its mayo gaze, through crispy eyes, sees all else as blighty.

Hark! For this is a gastronomical Aphrodite.

“Oh, Wendy,” they ask “please do tell”—
The bloodthirst grows stronger every nigh’
Oh, how I need that chicken when I’m high—
“Wendy, I beg you, please remedy this spell.”
Minutes seem like hours and hours like days,
Without my spice, I’m in a perpetual haze.
My dependence once led to a spicy sabbatical,
But Don’s and the King are hardly ecclesiastical.
Never again will I leave her;
I'm not so sure if I can handle the stir.
The tantalizing crunch of her crust makes me itch.
Her name is the Wendy’s Spicy Chicken Sandwich.