Either/Or

Bryce Saba
2023

Either

So tell me, friend, 

In the time it takes to brew my coffee 
Or boil an egg 
Or skim a short story— 
What plagues you? 

Allow me to reference my mutable chart 
And follow the flow 
To a singular part 
That subsumes you. 

I invite you to cry, revert, languish, and rage 
As I cast from my perch 
An academized gaze 
That discerns you. 

Place the weight of your world now under my command 
As my mad mind unearths 
Its own haunting demands, 
In the gleam of your eyes 
My gaunt silhouette stands, 
The strings’ sharp crescendo 
Stirs needle-blue sands 

But the truth in you harkens 
To warm, native lands 
Where the birds sing the songs 
Of mysterious plans 

That call us to be here— 
Youthful hearts, untrained ears, 
Empty hands. 

Or

Morning came, he stretched away 
The brittle peel of sunbaked day 
And picking up the Times, he read 
Each line through different eyes. 

Collecting some things, jotting some plans, 
He caught the first train to the sacred land, 
Where, waiting for him, were souls to sing, 
And he to harmonize. 

He weathered through the morning hours 
With flourishing care, and mounting towers 
Of this-or-whatever to fax and file 
And just crusting catharsis to show. 

It struck him like a pang of light 
That giving himself was not best done outright 
In a grand display, but through changing his mask 
For another, fine-carved for the tactical task 
Of lending a spark to let the world ask: 
Must I ignite myself?