Is there a booking fee? I suspect
there is. You give them your details
and you invent a password;
the only part requiring creativity.
But you don’t trust the password forest
you hack every day, so you play safe;
add a number to any old flame.
Now relax; play the waiting game.
Approval comes in two to three days;
or perhaps you’ll be invited
to try again next year.

Let’s assume the fates
were on your side and you’ve made
the waiting list. The e-mail
advises you to plan ahead,
think what you’ll need for your
trip of a lifetime. You’ll need
to gather sponsors, those fig-leaves
of charity, and remember to pre-book
a handy hotel. Most of those
will have a waiting list too.
You might want to upgrade
your phone: you’ve only two minutes
for selfies before the next conqueror
climbs up. Perhaps only then,

distracted by those sheer white plains
soft as your favourite toilet paper,
those rare rocks that have never felt
the scrape of stick, the skid
of boot, you’ll wonder what it ought
to mean. It’s not as though
it’s never been done before.
Those well-blooded slopes
are school yard virgins
cherry-plucked every summer.

But the modern world is so
well-trodden, what else can you do
but add it to your bucket list?
Imagine walking into the office
Monday morning, telling the boss
you spent your Leave
climbing Everest. Course you did,
he’ll answer with a wink.
Looks nothing like AI.