Apox Gen

Allison Saft

The fearful ones saw this coming and fear is the opposite of love. This one turned out to be that more appealing healthy fear: the fear of not being healthy. This thing we’re collectively experiencing must be harnessed, semi-time-capsuled and demi-appreciated, much later, if at all; that eternal lesson too late learned with warnings of wanings and wisdoms overturned.  The world has nothing to do now but watch; this is the moment(o) of the under-stocked, over-delusioned and appropriately suppressed Apox Gen.

We will come back hard with the vapid-ness, because this is all too heavy for us and everyone will have had way too long to think; without gaining perspective, it’s a downrising upfall. Too much time to wonder, but not about the productive things like how to fix everything we’ve done wrong. Good thing the borders are closed and the leader(s) maintain(s) complete power coupled with completer mania. Oh, and the vice of all vices, who thinks everything is a plan out of our control, is the one doing the controlling. What could go right? Only the left is right, and only the right is wrong.  How can there be business as usual with no business that’s usual—or open?    Biz is not b(l)ooming, just emptying gardens. Collective conscious thought therapy--There’s time for that now. Nothing left but time, killing time…and us.

 

But we can’t start this ambiguous. Everyone has turned Netflix back on, even though there is nothing actually left on there to discover. If you finally do watch something you think that no one has seen yet, there will still be that one person--at that party you’re not allowed to throw—who’s seen it.

It’s a panic people –but don’t worry, you’re perpetually panicking so this is just a Whensday. When is Whensday? – would have to remember what day is to figure that out. No need to be alarmed, just armed, shrug the vibes off as they stick to your coat(of arms—keep the arms inside the coat—don’t want to infect the others because we’re all out of purifiers---some dude bought them all to fully exploit supply and (mostly) demand—whether or not that’s an entrepreneurial or a scumbaggy is up to you. And did you know that bad vibes can remain airborne for up to three days-or was it hours? Look it up.  You have the luxury to look everything up now, but it probably won’t be true. Unless you sn(o)op(e) around.  Actually, don’t look anything up unless you want to be up, til 5:20 am, inconclusively wrapping up your third neurotic call in a row.

 

And the printed tales aren’t getting better, we’re all berning without reading, PA, whilst berning for bernie as a voting option. In Reading, PA, with purple skies and blue (collar) faded overalls – how now does it there fare? They used to have fairs there, not now, not fair.

But start it right. Do something right before all the things done wrong finally catch up. How could this place turn its back on us, everything normal is gone (oh wait- normal was garbage 99% of the time for 99% of us) How did they let this happen to the priviledge(de)s??? Just to show us a glimpse of what rich people prison is like? Been preparing since the guns and the bunkers, with a quiver of timber. You will know the place to go when it all comes crashing, on top of you. Killed by your own fall(en)-out shelter---that hurts both physically and ironically.

“If you’ve really given up hope completely, why are you still flossing?” PAUSE

“What if I just like flossing?”

“Nobody likes flossing.”

“There are enough people that a someone likes everything. Or at least, there used to be (joke, population will never be the issue. I’ll see you in the climate-controlled dome.)”

We need hourly gravestones for the living---just to remind us how we wasted it all as we’re still living it---“she plays solitaire, a lot”—what will it take to change us?

 

My brother insistently consists that everyone should have tea with him, before we knew warm liquids were a current cure. There’s a spiritual element to his request of course, only clear to those enlightened. It’s go(o)d to find g-d in a crisis, especially when g-d is the one responsible... wiping out the weak in weeks.  He compares everything to a book he’s never read, pieced together only in the heavenly heavily channeled webs. And his breakdown/rise up proceeded the virus, leading one to wonder if the power of his revelations might have been the cause. Everything has purpose and there’s a plan. Except an emergency plan-- that’s on you, buddy. Good thing we got rid of that pesky task force (not the space-force) and also the EPA, and everything else intended to help. Then again, this is what we were promised.

 

A lurch and a leech and a love all wait in the same spot for me to drop my crumbs. Ialways feared being reincarnated as a crumb—maybe that’s what happening and we all died in G(ch)ina, formerly known for its Buddhism. Worry but it’s more out of habit now, just repetitions ingrained from when reaction was genuine. We’re trained from the first moment, and we never ask. We couldn’t then and don’t want to now. Our first smile: purely positive (p)reinforcement. 

 

Every fake prez/news update, every talking point(less), is a step nexter to mystery. Everyone will make up their own version of what is going on. You’re xanxious (Xanax+anxious)? Well you should be. You’re not worried? Well we can work with that too; leave your mask at home.

Is it possible to run out of homemade alcoholic sanitizer if you haven’t made any yet…? Better to run out of that than the real kind.

We dye our hair out of boredom now…we always thought we were doing things for ourselves but we’re realizing we really make our efforts for others. 

The rage contained in these walls echo only for us, meaning nothing to anyone else. What does it mean to be mean, never to see what I might mean? It feels better to be better, it should anyways. Morals decease. Yes, will see myself out just to escape, via the south hospital(ity)—

Can’t find my phone; even it has started socially distancing from me.  

 

Watch the trained ones report, petrified like trees, but there’s nothing concrete in this jungle. It’s enough not knowing. They taught us that in agnosticism school (they changed the schedule every week—because nothing is certain--)

The end of the world doesn’t happen all at once,  like you expect it to, or maybe even want it to; it’s gradual and sustained and flickering panic, tugging you always to see what you refuse: it’s sharp and it’s often and it’s forcefully ignored.  Learn to break free of the freedom that’s always been there, crutching you with shadows paved in stoned chaos under jagged lid.

Allison Saft, Allison.saft2@gmail.com, is a creative artist, from writing and performance, to  music and art. She has a BA in English/Theatre and a MA in Writing for Performance. She wrote, directed, and acted in the 2017 and 2019 Short Works Series at the Manhattan          Repertory Theatre in NYC. Allison has been published in Another Chicago Magazine, Literary Orphans, Emanations : 2 + 2 = 5, Silver Birch Press, Poetry Nation, Sensible Reason, and others. She is also an active political activist and inactive philosopher. She hopes her writing may act as a vehicle for social change, internal exploration, or at the least, be read.

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