jeff vollmer

2:28:18

on the day you died i killed
a mosquito on my bare ribs
where it left a black oily
stain on my skin shaped
as a pocket watch—
i still
have it to remember you by along
with your old dvd collection and
a jar of buffalo nickels most
of which are worn down and
old but you can still see
the iconic shaggy outline
where buffalo used to be
before we deleted them
with guns from trains
and stamped them on our money—
an old
three-legged dog
that we both knew wanders
into my rooms and out of my dreams
to where you are but
sometimes
when i think about you i wonder
why the sun feels
so good and warm as she burns my skin unlike
every other scorching thing
that a body
recoils away from.

Jeff’s work has been published in Cider Press Review and Louisiana Literature. He graduated with a degree in English and creative writing from Middlebury College. Jeff lives with his wife, three kids, two dogs, and cat in New York’s Hudson Valley.