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(en) US, FTAA Miami Style - I went to Miami Florida, To challenge the FTAA,

From Worker <a-infos-en@ainfos.ca>
Date Sat, 29 Nov 2003 12:06:13 +0100 (CET)


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I went to Miami Florida,
To challenge the FTAA,
The corporations and the countries
Especially the US of A.

They want to get rid of the jobs here,
And recreate them with far less pay,
In sweatshops in Global South countries
Where they shoot you if you don't obey.

This treaty will give all the big companies
The right to sue over restrictive laws,
That restrain their pursuit of high profit
And favor clean air or other cause.

So I spent twenty hours in a van
With some privileged stuck up kids,
Who are getting paid to organize.
“Lets not talk politics.” One said.

I looked around and wondered
Why I’m in an SUV
With people who reject communication
Or whine to use the DVD.

We have to purchase movies
For these rich college kids to not get bored
And when one of us dumpsters donuts
Their disgusted faces leave me floored.

The drivers are all OK though
They don’t reject the dumpstered food
So we talk of politics and music
And start building up the mood.

The convergence space is well planned
And the gatekeepers are very kind
They find a corner where we can sleep
And take a moment to unwind.

Food Not Bombs is cooking
Along with Seeds of Peace
So I start chopping apples
and get my troubled thoughts to cease.

I went to scout out all the cops
who made the city feel like war,
And talked to local merchants
Who liked what we were fighting for.

Then I marched in a labor rally
With some of those very same college kids
Against a local department store
Asking for sweatshops to not get their bids

My friends had already been arrested
For walking the sidewalks dressed in black
So I went to the beach for a moment
and found a nice place to hit the sack

I got up at five the next morning
Intending to protest all day
But the police corralled us for hours
And managed to keep us away

So I left the crowd and I pleaded
I pushed and I begged and I shoved
Til I got to the gate of their fencing
Past the cop lines with helicopters above.

I could here the crowd chanting in the distance
and see a bit of it too
I knew they were trying to join me
But were stopped by the men in blue.

Suddenly armored cops moved trough the streets
Clouds of teargas filled the air
I heard plastic bullets pounding flesh
Batons and tazers being used without care

The protesters tied to leave but were surrounded
And I could hear them scream
But the cops at the gate were still friendly
And this living nightmare seemed a dream

I called the radio station
And told what I heard and saw
Then called friends I knew were trapped
But my talking upset the law.

The policeman who had just been smiling with me
Didn’t like it when I told what they’d done.
They stole my sign, which called for more housing
And showed me up close what they thought was fun.

So I sat 4 days in Dade County Jails
With 200 battered protester friends
With a thumb that I could not feel
and a shoulder that did not bend.

They kept us in almost total isolation
And fucked with all the laws
Wouldn’t let us speak to long-term prisoners
Fearing we’d add their grievances to our cause.

I agitated til they took me to general pop.
Where I spent 2 days with the women
They told me the ways they were treated wrong
When I spoke of protest, they took notes and listened

I promised their mistreatment would not be forgotten
And helped get their water fountains fixed
Then I went to court to get released
And found they’d added a new charge to the mix.

But I won’t let all this stop me
I won’t plunge into despair
I’ll still oppose the corporations and the countries
And the treaties that are unfair

Bork

Coppied from infoshop.org


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