This Exertion


It was happening long before the Patriot Act

fucked the ass of the First Amendment:

the great big cock of censorship

shoved down throats

vaulted open in silent screams.

It began with the forked tongues of documents

that devoured the nations of the first Americans,

became as permanent as the bars of black print

that still hold the truth hostage.


Truth held hostage:

No wars waged by shareholders with

greater profits in mind.

No farm workers with lungs rotting

from illegal pesticides.

No one laid off by corporations

seeking cheaper labor in distant ports.

No abused children fathered

by right-to-life judges in the Supreme Court.

No political prisoners, no energy shell games

no genocide of trannies and queers,

no top one percent

hoarding half our wealth

though all they produce is fear.

No one shot for living out of a shopping cart,

and no one hogtied by “pigs” and shot facedown to welcome the New Year.


Not Silenced, the call to 911 for help

from the poor neighborhood.

Not Silenced, those who test positive

when positive don’t mean good;

the artist who cannot tolerate the suffering;

those deformed by the crippled vision of this society.


Truth held hostage:

Isn’t that right

Mr. ATT-Walmart? Mr. Disney Channel?

Mr. Agent-pimp for Amazon-Chronicle Books?

Don’t you agree?

Mr. Wells Fargo?

Mr. Chevron Congressman? Mr. Chase?

Mr. John Paul Pope?

You who retain exclusive rights

to our freedom of speech.


Freedom of speech,

your propaganda thrust from billboards and shelves

that dictate what to consume and tolerate.

Freedom of speech,

the truncated parameters of

political and aesthetic debate.

Freedom of speech,

if you can afford the permit

to get your voice off the ground,

else it’s freedom of speech

without any sound.

Freedom of speech,

your slick and sexy manifestos of private property

at the check out line;

your endless television tribute to capitalism,

prime time;

your public schools of indoctrination,

the books and artists you won’t allow in the nation,

the countries our passports will never know;

Freedom of speech,

our right to express ourselves

as long as we’re incapable of thoughts of our own,

and as long as most folks won’t listen

to statements that hit home.



your images of men and women

conjured for consumption.


the way you screw us in public for profit.


what dies in us that we may live this way,

suffocating on TV

instead of smashing the FCC—

All we got is this community mike

When what we need is a general strike!

This exertion of free speech may never be broadcast

by corporate media in the U$A,



©2012 Margot “Pimienta” Pepper


%d bloggers like this: