that’s the name, I’m thinking,
for the huff-and-buffet
rhetoric that fulminates against me, me
and every other smart-arsed upstart
lover-of-the-vertical who ventures
up on the tolt it scours
and sculpts. Across Conception Bay it gathers wrath
and hurls it, a tirade so pauseless,
so pressure-hosed that listening’s impossible
and mandatory, the poor mind veering King
Learily into synch, unbonneted,
banging back and forth like bad hockey.
Already, in deference, I’ve doffed
and packed away my hat and glasses, now
it wants me bare and walking-stickless,
wants me smeared like flesh-and-calcium pâté
across the rough volcaniclastic ridge.
To catch my breath I crouch
in the lee of an impeccably poised
erratic, an elephant en pointe, CFA,
emplaced by a glacier with a raven’s
drastic sense of humour.
In a moment, once I’ve regathered mass
and gravity, I will arise and lurch
up onto the crest, heading, with my
squat-hunched stagger, for the shelter
of that patch of tuckamore –
the bristling ancient quasimodoed
hedgehog of a life form
that lives here.