Poem for a Dystopic World

In a dystopic world, all words are banned.  The oppressed adapt by manipulating the features of their faces in quizzical, repeated ways.  Their hope in doing so is to wordlessly create meaning.

I transcribe one such poem here:

Finger in left ear.  Pull left earlobe.  Run hand down to center of mouth.  Blink eyes twice.  Raise left eyebrow.  Yawn.  Wiggle right ear.  Rub chin.  Pull at mustache.  Reach into mouth.  Pull out tooth.  Poke out right eye with right index finger.  Yank left eye from socket.  Slice off left ear, then right, with knife held in right hand.  Bleed and bleed some more.

But really, does this mean anything?  Does it?  Does it?