Lakey Comess

Between departure and arrival

Move to a city, lose a coast walk.
Nightfall returns surf, gull, fog warning.

Active opposition, stem of verb,
featureless, impersonal, not yet selected.

Odds are determined when bets have been placed,
we speak of acts, process, reasonable conclusions.

Between time of departure and time of arrival whole shorelines vanish.
Statements of principles erode in passing, as do apocryphal reports.

Between departure and arrival we've lost sight of dunes.
Emphatic approval colours too much exertion.

Letters proceed from cause to apterous effect.
Now you are uneasy, fearful.

Come nearer in space, take possession of suitable
aquamarine, confined to a water tank, seaweed, rocks.

Shore loss, measured in hushed ordeal, watchful guardian.
Geography left behind is replaced by sea, numerous islands.

Hearts outline frame


                                                             Solo flute cries over barbed wire, pastoral vista,
people pass. It's just a chart gouged onto a surface. No set style, no bravura.

Anyone is eligible for a terrible ending. How is it you held onto a camera, film,
but did nothing to stop it? You should have opened your mouth, counterattacked.

What am I looking for? Reasons, old boy. Seasons pass; I can't get my head around it.
Detachment, you say, would assist, but I have no subscription. Alas, it expired.


Shadows endure. Fog prevails over impression. There are no signposts, resistance, impossible.
The currency isn't familiar. I mean, it doesn't translate into coin, sounds and sense.

There is no order even in organised abuse. There is no defence.


Do you dream of this, too, protect mind by wearing a special cap?
Do you seek last resort, all purpose salve, pioneering technique?


Left hand vamps, right scores through names of the dead, in red. Expect a postcard,
it finally arrives. Shrunken map. Fluorescent distance, bubble wrapped.


Here is an unforeseen doorway, but not an exit. It takes real time effecting escape.
I still haven't managed. Temper your speech. Nothing ever remains unrecorded.

Lakey Comess, born U S A in 1948, has lived in Israel, South Africa and the Orkney Islands in Scotland and now lives in Glasgow. She has contributed to Versal, Big Bridge, Gulf Stream, Milk, Hutt, Hamilton Stone Review, Otoliths, Mad Hatters' Review and other publications, sometimes as Lakey Teasdale.
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