Orpheus stares at the Taco Bell menu
at a rest stop out of hell;
39 choices of cheese and beef-gelatin
stare back, like vapor
in the black-and-yellow sun,
brittling his splintered-peter hair;
Orpheus can’t choose,
does he want cheese-grease
pumped into a circle or a log?
He prays to his God, and in response,
A pollen descends, winking through the sunbeams,
recalling something like honey,
he forms letters in the air that prophecy
fresh berries and a hiss of wine and silver,
beatifying foody fantasies—a Delphic daydream
to suckle on, a tease of atoms
he will never smell;
but drooling Khaos, birthing her emptiness in his stomach,
rends him from these roots, so here he goes,
por favor-ing this establishment again, knowing
some promises do die,
as prophesied by everyone ready
in front of him,
and everyone waiting behind.
— Austin Thornton is a diviner of refined sentimentalism, a modern metaphysical, a possible human, and the winner of several scholarships as well as Oregon State University’s 2023 WIC Award and 2025 Provost Prize. Poetry, nonfiction, and fiction from this author is featured or forthcoming in The Solitude Diaries, PRISM Magazine, The Daily Barometer, and *82 Review. A novel is in progress, but more short stories and poems will be procrastinated with.