Synergetic synesthetic sizzlings

To the Lords of Censorship & Intolerance
I say, we say:
We, mud people, snake people, tar people
We, bohemians walking on millennial thin ice
Our bodies pierced, tattooed, martyred, scarred
Our skin covered with hieroglyphs & flaming questions
We, Living Museum of Modern Oddities & Sacred Monsters
We, vatos cromados y chucas neo-barrocas
We, indomitable drag queens, transcendental putas
waiting for love and better conditions in the shade
We, "subject matter" of fringe documentaries
We, the Hollywood refusniks,
the greaser bandits & holy outlaws
of advanced Capitalism
We, without guns, without Bibles
We, who never pray to the police or to the army
We, who never kissed the hand of a bishop or a curator
We, who barter and exchange favors & talismans
We, who still believe in community, another community,
a much stranger and wider community
We, community of illness, madness & dissent
community of horny angels & demons
We, frail and defiant; permanently outraged but always tender
We shape your desire while you contract our services
to postpone the real discussion
We, the artists & intellectuals who still don't wish to comply
We, bastard children of two humongous nuns:
"heterodoxia" e "iconoclastia"
We, who talk back in rarefied symbols & metaphors
against the corruption of formalized religion & art
We, the urban monks who pray in tongues & rap in Esperanto
We, who put on masks, penachos & wigs to shout
We, standing still in our underwear
right in the center of the stage
with the words carved on our chests:
"Performance artist: will bleed for food"
"Obsessive artist: will die for one idea"
We, critical brain mass
fuga inminente de cerebros y hormonas
spoken word profética, sintética
We continue to talk back…talk back…tack back…
(Shamanic tongues)