Poem: Spicers to Teviot Girls Trip

By Maddy Smeaton

Against nature us women will wrestle.

Before me, Spicers Peak.

Cliffs cut through my pass and yet I caress

Devilish lantana.

Eager still, the group eats quickly.

'Fuck!' says Sahara, and behind me I hear,

Giggling gaggle of girls.

Hellish overgrowth hinders, and yet we continue

Ingression, inch by inch.

Jaundiced jungle closes in.

Kookaburras cackle their karaoke and and today,

Lost we are not!

Muscling up the precipitous cliffs until-

Noontide picnic.

Over the rocks, a sluggish stream is collected.

Peeling leeches from my skin and yet,

Queer creatures turn back again, seeking warmth.

Raspberry vines, barren, cling to me.

Steamer Saddle the next morning, and I see,

Towering before me a crumbling Titan-

Unusually ubiquitous.

Voracious we are, it the last supper.

Whiling away the afternoon at Lizard Point.

Xanadu at last!

Yearning for yuppie amenities but

Zealots of the Main Range we have become.