So You Were Told To Just Sit There And Relax. Poem by RIC BASTASA

i've read everything then
and found a map of those disasters
which until now we cannot speak
with candidness for fear of
another disaster so we speak in
codes, like,
a disaster is not really a
disaster, it could be something
else which we understand
by just the two of us, for i am here
and you are there and we meet here
in this kind of decoded
disaster, like a friend need not
really be a friend,
but a mastermind, of sorts, and going
to the beach to take a dip, is
not the sea we mean, as it is something
else, and this is what is happening now.

you read the same paper authored by an
unknown guy, who of course, we both really know
who he is, and it is too disastrous, a monstrosity,
of a line of keels, and calibers, of course,
you know who and whom, who fell from the stairs
and who kept the key to this tunnel of
violence.

those who authored it are right behind you,
carrying the cross and the candle, and speaking
in tongues, and you look at them from behind
as others say the impossibility of it all,
but now you are convinced of the disaster,
and the authors of the same.

it is not time yet, so you were told to just
sit there and relax.