Lakey Comess

Chant, on free ground

Tempo and volume increase. Chant steps onto free ground,
counters with history, prancing back, forth, restricting blows.

Time to get to know one or a number of numbers,
varieties of place, buildings, inner chamber of weather.

Let's hear it for running sound, torch bearers selected for contribution,
marriages which affect you deeply, timbre of voice, exotic depiction.

Heart stops, falls into groin. Music applauds,
stamps feet, tugs at shirt tails, manipulates reluctant button.
There waits ferocity, gesture incensed, protests at outcome.

Nightmare voices syllable, baby-talk, how you walk
                on patrol, solemn business.
Anniversary celebrates satisfactory correspondence.

In the beginning, this time will be different.
This time is the first. This time is about essence.
Sojourner spoke truth. You questioned her gender.

Repair the score


You need to switch off. I need to switch on.
The two conditions are not necessarily opposed.


One man's early morning jog is legendary in his own mind.
Do you mind if we continue the journey in complete silence?


I would say the past eight years were rendered noisily.
Palette turns to mud, which brushes off, that which doesn't stick.


You have a fairly busy day tomorrow,
but will make time for a potential punter first thing.


Music discovers hearing gone sickly, turbulent clatter.
Hearing has become a realm of expertise, celebrations return to haunt you.


Organize the next cadenza.

Connoisseurs pay high prices for rehearsal,
pick up nuances to exchange between interval and register.
Subtlety was never your strong suit; connections between grating noise
and other weird combinations move off the spectrum.


Repair the score, destroy interpretation,
throw a wrench into performance.


Transmission focuses on fragments;
Highly formidable requests strengthen resolve,
follow direct orders to dig in your garden.


Spring, after long absence, is likely to return.
Consolation lies in solo performer fulfilling purpose.


This is a roundabout way of confirming intention.
Moments take up too much room in the suitcase.

Lakey Comess, born U S A in 1948, has lived in Israel, South Africa and Orkney and now lives in Glasgow. She has contributed to Big Bridge, Versal, Gulf Stream, Milk, Hutt and other publications, sometimes under the name Lakey Teasdale.
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