Poems

New Orleans, Old Story

by Margot Pepper
Watershed Festival Reading August 18 at noon

I.
They came shackled, scarred, half-drowned on Yemayá’s back:
queen mother of the sea;
children like limbs, severed,
settled by Oshun, the Mississippi river;
clandestine gods and shells stowed behind catholic crosses:
vadu, voodoo, santería.
Where once sweat lodge smoke smudged the view
an auction block now stood.

And so, the great city rose up, multiplied--
cries of birth pains muffled in traffic,
throaty blues and hypnotic jazz,

Who Owes Whom

by Margot "Pimienta" Pepper
Xispas.com 2007


For reprint requests please contact the author via wall@Freedomvoices.org

And what if we interrupted
the phosphorescent faces
that calmly assess our fate?

What if we stripped the presses of
their convenient projections,
voicing instead our own objections
to the national debt and immigrant debate?

We are not the trespassers
who transformed our cobble-stone streets,
adorned by the twice repossessed
temples to our future,
into war zones:

Sending in the Troops

by Margot Pepper
Berkeley Daily Planet, December 27, 2005


Xispas.com 2007

For reprint requests please contact the author via wall@Freedomvoices.org


"How long would authority and private property exist, if not for the willingness of the mass to become soldiers, policemen, jailers and hangmen?"
--Emma Goldman

Photos arriving on the wire.
Soldiers boarding planes,
dressed for success:

At This Very Moment

by Margot Pepper
Freedom Voices Publishers

For reprint requests please contact the author via wall@Freedomvoices.org

At this very moment
as anti-Marxists
and anti-anarchists
and anti-revolutionary liberals
debate what's the matter with the places
they've never been to,
a very tall man
a very gaunt man
a very weary man
with greasy hair
and dirty hands
and a pressed cotton shirt
that is as clean
as it could be
has borrowed the ashtray
from my table,
returned it empty
and is proceeding to smoke

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