Our Response to the Coronavirus (COVID-19) Outbreak

As a precaution to help limit the spread of coronavirus (COVID-19) and care for our community, Just Buffalo Literary Center has postponed a number of events, and we will follow the guidance of Buffalo Public Schools in terms of Just Buffalo Writing Center programming.

Learn More

Transmissions

Transmissions: Issue 3

At the Writing Center, we have the honor to be privy to the work of the next generation of artists and thinkers. Every month, JBWC Youth Ambassadors present Transmissions — a selection of writings by young artists involved with the JBWC. These pieces are from April 2023. Enjoy!

 

 

 

INCONSISTENCY
Rose Bodine

Everything changes too fast.
The way you make income,
the house you lived in last.
At the drop of a hat — the beat of a drum.
Yet another day has passed,
and in its place, another shall come.

Yet, always, you’re left aghast.
Left scattered and glum.
“Was it like this in the past?
Where did this all come from?”
Blindsided, your fate has now been cast.
Nothing can be done, you’re forced to succumb.

This poem was shared during JBWC Open Hours.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

you didn’t even ask me if i knew how to swim
Mia Kirisits

get me out, you beg
but what if i can’t
what if i can’t save you
what if i can’t prevent the tide from rising
what if i can’t pry it’s cold hands from your ankles
what if i can’t stop it from dragging you under
what if i get there too late and have to jump into the current
what if i have to pull your shaking body onto my back and swim with a new weight on my shoulders
i’m sorry
i’m sorry
i’m sorry
you promise you won’t do it again as you cling to me and cry
i can’t save you every time
sometimes that sets in,
i can’t be your prince in shining armor,
bounding to you atop my white steed before you even hang up the phone
my armor has been rusted by your tears and there are indents due to how hard you hold me
i love you
i do
but my horse is growing tired
her hooves are sore and throbbing
she’s practically skin and bones
but i know myself
i will collapse to the ground and mourn her as she takes her last breaths
but the minute the light in her eyes is extinguished
i will begin to run to you on foot
praying that i make it to the shore before you’ve grown too tired to swim anymore

This poem was shared during the JBWC Open Mic. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem, inspired by Emily Dickinson, was made during our Let’s Make a Zine Together workshop with Rachel Shelton of Mirabo Press and Cheryl Weaver of the Emily Dickinson International Society. This piece and others are featured in our newest collaborative zine Midnight’s Dusky Arms [And Homes] which we released at ZineFest 2023. Email jbwc@justbuffalo.org to snag a copy in exchange for a donation!