I write this with hot, salty grease still caked under my nails. My rotisserie chicken sits beckoning on the kitchen counter, waiting for me to tear tender strips of juicy flesh from still steaming bones in the primal act of mastication. There’s something holy about those chucks of hot, moist meat entering my watering mouth. Every time I pick up one of these succulent, pre-cooked, ready-to-eat birds I risk it not even making it home. I have to exert every ounce of my willpower to not hang out the side of my car door in the Superstore parking lot to devour every dripping, savoury inch immediately (which I’ve totally never done).
Oh, Heavens! Rotisserie chicken! Where art thou at every hour of every waking moment! If only I could clutch your warm, inviting skin from morn ‘til dusk, so as to devour you every moonlit twilight! I’m insatiable for you! Sweet bird! My adoration for thou extends to the end of time, and beyond! I weep with desire for you! I ache! I moan! I cry out! Until we meet again!
Darien Johnsen is a UFV alumni who obtained her Bachelor of Arts degree with double extended minors in Global Development Studies and Sociology in 2020. She started writing for The Cascade in 2018, taking on the role of features editor shortly after. She’s passionate about justice, sustainable development, and education.