Fraser, "The Fragility of Heavy Machinery"

They don't love
what live things do, not the blue drain
of veins, not the swell of lungs, certainly not

the slide of balls
in sockets, that slick
organic superiority. All this time,

they've been eyeing our particular kind
of flexibility as they go on drilling
and driving piles, wondering

at our lack of sensitivity. Look at the belly
of a jet sometime and see how thin,
how far, the skin's

been stretched, look at a crane's
bent arm, hold in your hand the cripple
of a stripped screw. None of these things

know what to do. No matter what they say, banging
their anger, sighing with that high whine, shrieking
fatigue, all we hear

is noise, all we see is something
serving. The occasional accident we put down
to human error, while all the while

they stare back smiling
from the wreckage, knowing
what we made them for.


Caroline Fraser

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