River Lethe bouldering under the midnight sun on work days,
for days and days, for what seems like weeks and weeks
(the days are bright/and filled with pain
enclose me in your gentle rain)
Metamorphic nightmare leaning choss piles with sky ladders of big jugs
(I've spent years gradually testing them)
climb smoothly though,
it's never pleasant dangling supine under tons of meta-sedimentary,
this is playing with guns that are loaded,
this is some very brittle bones
I shall climb in the Kiguaik no more
there is no need of venturing up the Kougarak Road
we can wonder here, by the sea, amongst these outcrop gardens
befuddled with the lotus fruit of crack and crimp, air and dangle,
finch, longspur, sparrow, wren,
(the home team, the ravens and ptarmigan,
trying to protest their rights for staying the winter)
entire landscape humming in and out, oscillation
the day of pain and yawning drops out of sight,
here is the hole, hole, thumbs down, jug, jug, dangle that requires all of your attention
here is a mantle onto a glued flake
here is the best damn boulder problem you ever expected
down in the thrustle of chirp, reep, whoo-oo--oo, keep, keep
chi is oozing out the pores of the earth into the pores of my skin
i have forgotten all about the silent peaks
summits still encrusted with snow
repulsing every attempt
wonder here, for now, by the sea, pulling down,
soon it will be morning and the streams of humans will begin...
maybe sounds like a new ian song for folk fest.
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