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issue 20. fought out thought kicking berlin 2014


Grey skies overhead, brighter on the high horizon over there to the West 5 storeys up in the air where the sun could be if it weren’t for the trees and the growing blanket of cloud. Motors putter, screech and prowl past below on the concreted streets, rock hard for our cobbled feet. dDodging solitary metal packed organisms of flesh and blood belted in to roaming pollution machines. Somewhere a kid screams for more icecream but it ain’t really what they need. In the stores the horders hoard for their capitalist lords, and if it ain’t spent, it’s frittered away. Meanwhile in cities where the streets aren’t quite so neat, where not everyone has everything they need to eat, and where many voices meet, there the air is cut with flying gas cans, tears imported through global trade. Idiot kids pumped up in riot gear slash batons and flash live fire blindly at their brothers and sisters behind the makeshift barricades. They get richer and then they send aid. In the global melting pot we are all shareholders and doers of trade. Watch what you spend, watch what you get paid.


SEE EVIL


We are heathen, we are dirty, we are hungry, we are due, a friendly bunch SUBSCRIBE/SUBMIT dylan@lysergic.net SEE/SPREAD www.dylanbakker.com/mouth


new shamanism in the age of waste it pays to make haste while the sun shines put pennies in your eyes and wait for hermes he is there with the post the statutes say we gotta pay but i dont even have time to start a negative line this monkey its no cat no scratch that no heart to attack this monkey on my back and if i had a sound for all the pretty pictures i found we could cut and paste for every body’s taste we could cut and taste every body

and if i had the heart for all of it if i really had a heart for it i would send us into orbit and all of that space stars and cosmic dust and the interstellarscope the sparkle that we learnt by wrote the notes, the scale the infinite beyond but here of course its all off course i never stopped for a minute now down on babylon strip chow down on babylon strip bow down baby its long gone this throng its an abomination not a song and if there was a rhythm to the beat life if there was a way to beat it well you wouldnt find it here down down on mount misery down down on the slope

new shamanism in the age of waste it pays to make haste while the sun shines put pennies in your eyes and wait for hermes he is there with the post the statutes say we gotta pay but i dont even have time to start a negative line this monkey its no cat no scratch that no heart to attack this monkey on my back and if i had a sound for all the pretty pictures i found we could cut and paste for every body’s taste we could cut and taste every body



Mouth 20