Public Service Announcement by Jeffrey H. MacLachlan

                                                               One dizzy night I drank too much Jack
                                                               and ginger and skid and hit a limping

                                                               fawn. It didn't bleed as much as split
                                                               open to reveal a diorama: tiny stars drizzled

                                                               syrupy light upon a yawning girl in bed,
                                                               her hands resting upon an Ouija Board.

                                                               Even though it was illegal not to report
                                                               a dream deer as they were called

                                                               I couldn't risk speaking to cops
                                                               with a slur. Lake effect

                                                               snow crackled with television
                                                               static and the girl's awakening stirred

                                                               the woods. Through my squinting vision
                                                               trees appeared to be patting swelling

                                                               bellies as the girl circled palms
                                                               against the board. I rushed

                                                               to my truck and furiously turned
                                                               the key but the engine flooded

                                                               as winds picked up and spun snow
                                                               around the cab in a chrysalis.

                                                               I felt drowsy and rested against
                                                               the window, beating myself up

                                                               about the metamorphosis
                                                               that was beginning.

Jeffrey H. MacLachlan also has recent or forthcoming work in New Ohio Review, The Minnesota Review, Skidmore Penthouse, and Clay Bird Review, among others. He wishes there was a Literature Combine. He can be followed on Twitter @jeffmack where you can read jokes about sports and music. He hails from Skaneateles, New York.

What meal is he always hungering for? “Anytime I’m back in New York, whether it would be Brooklyn or the Finger Lakes, I can’t go too long without hitting up Dinosaur BBQ. They have brisket, wings, mac & cheese, and craft brews all under one roof. The fact that you can also watch sports on televisions is pure gravy.”

Back to Issue 4: Hungry Things

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