The value of a recommendationFull, gate of passage for sheep

That let’s a pesky kangaroo through

The way of loveIs found in offers, in loads

A childs’ overalls, just old enoughTo become a rag that wipes up

sunflower oil

Although Tony has placed our thoughtsBehind the saw, last in terms of shores

First, in ore I don’t blame him for doing his God’s work

I can choose to eat more freely though Confident to define free myself

To free myself In the blossoming of our nation

The way she moves makes you think of the seaShe is wild and welcoming, waving you closer with a gravitational pullShe is summer and salt and sunshine andDanger, above all she is dangerAnd full of danger.People will say you’re a fool for throwing yourself to the seaSharks will sleep with their eyes open and so does she,waiting for you to slip upWhen you try to leave she is the squidSticky, grabbing at your anklesYou’re trappedWhen she is done with you, then she will throw you upon the rocks by the shorePeople will say how you were a fool for throwing yourself to the sea As the years go on you’ll say you’ll never go to the ocean until you learn to swimBut water falls from the sky and pools in your ears and she calls you backPeople will say you’re a fool for throwing yourself to the seaBut was the fool you? Or the man who built a bridge so high above the waterBut with such a low railing.

I am dwarfed by her. She looms over me like a tree or a city. In her shadow I am warm and soothed. She is the sun to my Mercury, I am the joey in her pouch. She walks like a swan, one step in front of the other. The sand spreads beneath her soft feet. I follow behind her, tracing her steps. My feet nestle in her footprints like eggs in a nest. The sun sets in her wake.

I awaken with a start, wrapped in a blanket as heavy as the night. I’ve never felt more alone. All I need is to hear her voice. I venture into the darkness, one step in front of the other towards the peak of light that breaks the hallway’s horizon. I find her in a chair, her head buried in her hands. Between dry sobs she takes short sharp sips from an old Vegemite jar. I don’t speak, I watch. A fly on the wall, static, wings torn off by my beholding. As her feathers fall away before my eyes I am undone.

Desperately I search the floor, feeling neither warm or soothed. The only shadow is my own.

I will drag it behind me forever.

ABOVE THE HEARTH An instant fall / knowing it’s not you they call / Where were you? / You were trying to live / Trying to survive / Jumping through all the heartaches and lies / Quiet as a mouse / steady as can be / Holding dreams / for fleeting seconds / For another blow would come your way / So now behind the ball you stand / A hypocrite with a painted face / Clinging onto others passions / Others hopes / And you fall/ your heart hits the ground / And is swallowed in self loathing / Self pity is beyond unattractive / But it’s quicksand / This mud clings to your ankles / Not allowing you to press forward / You need that childhood back / No one will lend a hand / Be tactful, be persistent / And beg your legs / Not to give up / Who are you? / What do you see? / When standing solo / You’re breathing in a world / But living in / A delay / Whispers fall / On dead ears / Broken signal / No room to fill / A stomach empty / Tell me where to stand / Where I stand / Self directed / When you’re only looking in / It’s hard to perceive / The paths are clean / The air is clean / anxious/ anxious / Face contorting / Just sleep now / Retreat now / Gas engage / Disengage / Busy mind / Forever break-ing in time / Busy mind / Breaking / Tell me where to stand / Where I stand / Is this my place upon the mantelpiece?

ONLY A CONSENSUS WILL PLEASE Fingers pointed blame is laid on those who march / A lack of respect that we possess / Or so we’re told / The message has gone unheard / If peace is lost on a war of violence / We’re molded to accept / What avenue will reflect our mind / constantly filled with rage? / Apocalypse presents itself / These storms are growing frequent / Deaf ears grace complaints / Yours will be done just as / On earth as it is in heaven / Our highest power / Wields this testament / A fighting sword / Against our feather shields / Blades turning / Fires burning / The house falls to the ground / Your shelf life / and policies / are equally unsustain-able / Too much change for a year has not lapsed / Wellbeing / Lack of living / For most among us / You’re tied up / Queen at heart / No retribution / For your disconnection / All the photos we see / so far removed from our years / Fat faces / lines of age / Rich man suits / lack of women / Voting for those to handle our concerns / In turn to handle liberty / Never a name to fully trust / Always a minority to lose out / A stifled voice conveys our freedom / Stripped of emo-tional needs / A thousand left mourning / For the extravagance of one / Faith is lost in a referendum / Rules have surpassed the ability to win / Bureaucracy entwines the progressive minds / and so we look to other means

CHATTER IN THE SKULL And it’s funny that you’re all just too predisposed to hearing / the signs of which your friends might show / the signs that you’re all meant to know / And you’ll go ahead and like these posts / reminding you all to lend an ear / to lend a shoulder to a ‘bro’ that might be close to you / These old ways / are a continuation / Still meditate on words / as days continue to pass / Tumble down / the road it comes / Physical signs / it warns give way / Earth is falling / now I see / I’m trembling / veins are pumping / set this up / to fall, to plum-met / My body tells me / final legs stand / Pressure in the head / An inability to share / Bitten by my own bullet / Sorry if this one fails the agenda / A constant cycle / Forever hurting / Negative time / So heavily numb / Stained floor boards / Hush a stigma / Hold me back / Tie me down / I try so hard / Ruining days before they’ve begun / No way to erase the actions laid out / No forethought to stop / I say, I try, I say / I’m sorry / A broken record that it’s becoming / Now too scarred to talk / Too scared to walk / My feet they always cross the line / The nights would play so differently / If I didn’t rage and I didn’t fight / Not even with a just cause in sight / I cannot rest / Not shut my eyes / My mind is lost / My sanity undone

HIGHBROW All this flamboyant talk doesn’t scratch the surface / Acting merely as disposable humans / All this new age art / Using capital as the concept / A tried and tested argument / though there’s no answer or hope / in our current expressions or installations / Are the right people actually listening / or are they caught up in question time? / What is the point of this modern art? / Another audience alien-ated / Forced beyond appreciation / Tell me the point of this modern art / When it lacks thought and portrays an essence of laziness / Where’s the interaction? / Not close to provoking thought / Once the dialogue is forgotten / It’s an elitist’s game / The excuse is it’s for you / The viewer can take what they want / The key ingredient is askew / Dialogue / Who is questioning you? / What did you think? / How did you feel? / Interact / Is this played out closer to connection or towards a segregated group of minds? / Forever building a hall of white walls / Forever lonely against themselves / A space without description / Without words, no interaction / Isn’t this exactly what we’re fighting against? / If we’re not talking then how is the caucus?

CONTRIBUTUIONS BY;Ellise Bourne (pg. 1, 16,19), James Fenton (pg. 2), Tom Clark (pg. 3), Emma Sleight (pg. 4), Scott Mclatchie (pg. 5), Leah Jean (pg. 6), Anthony Webster (pg. 7), Jess Shulman (pg. 8-11), Ellie Rodd (pg. 12, 15) KIRI is Julian Saunders (drums, percussion), Uda Widanapathirana (guitar, synthesizer), Cameron Goodwin (bass), Tessa Fox (vocals) Recorded live & mixed September 2013 at Via Studios by Julian Saunders Mastered by Ryan Schwabe at The Manic Mansion, PhiladelphiaRecord Cover Art & Layout by Craig Nelson

Thank you to all zine contributors, Jordan Leekspin & the Lacklustre HQ, Dave Drayton and the Eunoia Collective, Craig Nelson, Matt Saliba, Ellise Bourne, Chris Brownbill, Cam Gillard, Jess Shulman, Kate Woodhouse, Toby Young, Josh Strange, Michael Ellul, Nathan Kearney, Ben Stimpson, Chris Topping, Will Houl-croft, Dean Crowe, Alex Winters, Jack Gowdy, Chris Bosma, Mohd Hairul Hakimi Abdul Ghani (Kimi), Arwith Utarid, Tara Jayne & One Brick Today, Lizzie Nagy, Dave Fannon, Matt Crawley, Matt Kneller, Luke Bell and The Last of Our Kind Zine, our friends, family, and each other for being strong and resilient. Anyone that has let us sleep on their floor, create a poster, lent us gear, or helped us book a show. Bands: Seahorse Divorce, Nature Trails, Oslow, Sparkspitter, Pinch Hitter, Making, Safe Hands, Ted Danson with Wolves, Gonzovillain, Virginia Sook, Mere Women, Burlap, Stockades, Old Love, Perfume Garden, Hope Drone, L-Burn Illuminati, Raus, Roland Major, Outright, Postal, Church, Machina Genova, Oxen, Idylls, Canine, The Larch, Raccoon City, De Nada, Hunting, You, Nana Vigilante, Pink Fancy, Diecut, and The Smith Street Band.

kirikiri.bandcamp.com