BULK-CARRIER Poem by Sergio Raimondi

Even if one has to discount structural problems
capable of splitting the hull into two loving halves
from which flow cleanly diesel and fuel-oil
into the rather less limpid waters of wherever


without forgetting either that cereal tends to settle
in each of the holds once the crossing has started
and without any control can slip from side to
side until it turns the whole thing unstable


problems because of which the engineers analysed
the combination of corrosion, metal fatigue
in high tensile steel and also in a crew on board
confused by ten languages and rather less steely


there's no doubt that it represents a step forward
in mastery of the power of the natural world:
beyond the little medal on the oiler's chest,
these are less mysterious or uncharted oceans.


The ever-growing size of the craft's length shows
the increase in the load and of global commerce,
plotted along the planet's routes now no longer
guided by low frequency radio waves:


they're the energetic shifts of supply and demand
that are impossible to register on a tidal chart
and organize in minutes the next journey
unknown until that moment by the supposed captain


who busies himself for now checking the cargo
the hatches open all over the single deck
and the telescopic - and final - tube through which fall
tons, counted by the hour, of wheat, soy or maize.


Taking care not to breathe in too much dust
that's where one has to get close to verify
attention fixed on the continued flow of the load
the basic motivation of the design: concentration