SUPPLY CHAIN > POETRY
how many times will i write this goddamned poem
how many times will it take a shape in my brain
what is the angle of the cooling tower & its
wafting vapor? most of the operation is
unseen, reactors and turbines dwarfed
by tall concrete columns, a group of six
looming over a postindustrial landscape
populated by the middle & working class
who can’t escape the interruption of their
horizons by the cooling towers of the plant.
a nuclear power plant. nuclear power plants
must be shut down regularly in keeping with
safety regulations; the reactor and its cooling
systems are stilled, the piping replaced so that
the coolant, usually plain water, can continue to
absorb and transmit heat from the reactor in the
form of steam, turning turbines and creating the
power. during these shutdowns, hundreds of men
(they are mostly men) called journeymen plumbers
& pipefitters and welders swarm to the plant, lured
by excellent pay on the road, and good per diem, to
complete the work of the shutdown, the replacement
of the cooling system. they wear dosimeters ‘round their
their necks to ensure they’re not exposed to too much
radiation. i hated hearing of my father’s lanyard—i hated it.
& then after ten years of this work, brain cancer killed him
but i was told the long dark hours in the power plants were
not to blame. don’t be silly, girl. don’t blame the radiation.
Erin Clark is a queer American writer and clergywoman currently based in London, England. She grew up in the rust belt and until two years ago, has done more years in pizza-shop kitchens than in any other job. Erin’s current life is a combination of the TV shows Rev, Spaced, and The Office. Her poems, stories and essays have been published in journals and magazines on both sides of the Atlantic, including the Oxonian Review, the New Critique, Geez, Pilcrow & Dagger, The Hour and elsewhere. She is the author of the nonfiction Sacred Pavement (2021, That Guy’s House), and can be found online at emclark.co or on Twitter @e_m_clark.