Czaja, Jordan, Object of the Year……………………………………………………………………………………32 Davis, Dondrae, A Face to Recognize

A Face to Recognize

—after “Slide to Unlock” by Ed Park Dondrae Davis

No one would have thought that life would be this way. Everything was going great. You had a good job, your relationship with you and your girlfriend was better than ever until it happened. Hundreds of thousands of people were dying from an infectious disease. Itcaused a pandemic. Many people lost their jobs, and many people lost loved ones. You were affected by the pandemic by losing both of your parents within three days. It's been a little over four months now since you and your girlfriend have been out of thehouse. The governor shut the whole state down unless you are deemed an essential worker. You've been laid off from your job for three months now because of the pandemic. No income is coming in, but bills are still expected to be paid. This devastating time created more and more arguments between you and your girlfriend every day. You can suddenly feel the depression starting to settle in. Something has got to give, you think to yourself. First, you start pacing back and forth throughout the one-bedroom apartment that you and your girlfriend share. You grab your Bills starter cap and your black windbreaker with the 40-caliber pistol that you got from your fatherin the pocket. You take one last look at your girlfriend before storming out the door, slamming it behind you. It was a nice quiet night in the empty streets of North Buffalo. Everyone was at home, not because it was late, but because of the pandemic. You stroll up and down Amherst St., with all of the crazy thoughts running through your head. You continue walking down Hertel St. from one end of Hertel to the other. It was a ghost town. All you can hear in your head is your girlfriend yelling and screaming. You notice a young male walking down the street, heading toward the corner store. You think to yourself; this is it. You throw on your five-dollar pair of glasses and wait on the side of the building until he comes out. After about five minutes, the guy comes walking out of the store, not noticing anything. The guy heads down toward the endof Hertel with a bottle of wine he purchased from the corner store. You see that he passes the street that he had come off. You keep a good enough distance where you're not too close nor too far. You figure maybe you would stick him up for his bottle of wine and the little bit of cash in his wallet. Then he continues to cross the street and glances behind him, unsure if he notices you following him or if he was seeing if there was a car coming down the road. To the ATM he went. As he's inserting his card, you walk up behind him as quiet as a ghost. You pull out that black 40-caliber pistol and press it in his back between his shoulder blades. You can hear his soul leaving his body at that moment. "Don't move and don't make a sound." You grab his wallet and cell phone from his pocket and his bottle of wine out of his hand. "Please don't kill me. I'll give you whatever you want," he says, frightened. You realize that you've gotten what you went for, but then a greedy feeling comes upon you. Quietly but with authority, you say to him, "Password." His fingers start moving frantically over the ATM keypad. Error, the screen says. It was as if his mind went blank, and he suddenly forgot his password. Or was it just that he was stalling. Then it seems if you could

see the thoughts that are going through his mind. It was like he was trying to remember his password: The city where you are from. The city where you are from plus your birthdate. Your child's name plus your address. Your mother's name and the year she was born. Your favorite sports team with your favorite player's number. "Quit stalling," you say. The make and model of your first car. The make and model of your first car with a symbol before it. A mixture of numbers and letters where if you unscramble them, they will spell out your street and phone number. It would be so much easier to have updated ATMs with face recognition security to get into your account. Then all you would have to do is grab the back of his head and push his face to the screen. You're standing there waiting for him to figure out the correct password while cars are passing by. By the time the third car drives past, you are fed up. You press the gun into his back harder and tell him, "Password and Right now and Stop stalling." He suddenly starts to cough. Now not only are you angry, but you are also nervous about catching the coronavirus from him. Your conscience tells you to run and, on the other hand, is telling you to stay. All of a sudden, another car comes by slower than the others, andyou panic. The next thing you realize, you shove the guy to the ground and take off running down the street. Up the stairs, onto the porch, and into your apartment hallway, you dive. Leaning against the wall breathing heavily, trying to calm down, you look at the cell phone and think maybe he has the password stored in his phone. You hit the side button to light up the screen, and what do you know, it needs the guy's face recognition to unlock the phone.

Black-Hole Binary

—a sestina inspired by “A New Era of Black Holes is Here”by Thomas Lewton, featured in The Atlantic 20 Feb 2021 Ashley Bindig

“Black-hole binary systems are very common in the universe.” –Thomas Lewton

Happy in the sky I shone as one. Two seemed like one too many fragile hearts. But then you came into my sky to beat as though you were a throbbing flame. To like but not to love was not our way. Dying, to our eyes, looked no sin. In stars

we found the fullest flush of love. In stars we foundthe way to higher life, where two could find a path awash with light, dying to the dark along the way. Braver hearts than ours had shunned the path, but we, bold like the love that fought cruel fate, knew we would beat

back all dividing cause. That it might beat us soundly in the end, would shake the stars that brought our dance to birth. At first un-like events would cause a breach, and then we two would find somehow that we could break our hearts. But that could not convince us we were dying.

The collision heralded the dying of the light that wrapped us ‘round. All the beat was going from our dance and only heart’s blood would prove the way we could know that stars answer to but One, One that once was TwoConjoined. The Two-Conjoined, as lovers like

we were. We cannot see Him now, for like Erebus below our light is dying. But even as we tear our hearts in two, consuming and consumed while beating fast, we can’t forget that love bound stars together. A fire that once warmed our hearts

can only burn us with its cold and hearts that glowed with life have gone hollow, tomb-like, as the grave that one day will claim all stars that now dance free, unknowing that the dying takes the glorious sun, and, resting never, beats the offending Savior to the Void. Two

hearts can never be as one. The dying of their light must suck their life. Like the beat of unrelenting stars their fates bide two, yet bound.

“If a pair of black holes, and the stars from which they form, live their whole lives together, the constant push and pull will align their spins. But if the two black holes happen to encounter each other later in life, their spins will likely be unequal.” -Thomas Lewton

A Race for Place

—inspired by “Coming to Chippewa: New streetscape aimed at boosting downtown’s neighborhood feel” published in The Buffalo News 26 Feb2021 Caitlin Kerling

She was a tired old town. Seasoned infrastructure gave away her age. Shades of gray dominated downtown, Vacant business fronts stood noiseless.

By day, cars filled the city, but sidewalks were absent of people. And by night, the wind hushed a lifeless breeze. Some redevelopers turn their cheek, While others see a vision for potential.

Projects will start the momentum, Additional lightning, landscaping, and benches will set the stage, Sidewalks will be cleaned and cleared for use, Connecting various parts of the city.

Enhancing accessibility and mobility With a goal to make her more attractive, Like the active city it once was. This antique of a city desired youthfulness,

A public realm that reflects vibrancy, And a place where people wanted to be.

One Year Later

Chloe Zahm

The masks are horrible I never thought we would be here They want us to stay safe These are difficult times for all We must follow the rules Hand sanitize everywhere we go Our hands have become raw First responders and nurses are tired But they must work to keep all safe Things are changing in our lives We need a normal life back COVID please say goodbye