Disaster on the SS Grandcamp (2nd Revision)

[svanhoeven]

2nd revision: (Originally titled "Texas City Disaster")

First symptoms were a fever underfoot,
a glowing abscess weeping smoke, and steam
erupting from a broiling hull. Men bathed
the orange embers with a meager stream,

But negligence had spawned a horrid loop-
a high school chemistry mistake writ large,
as heat begetting heat begetting heat
makes sparkling fuses shrink towards their charge.

A warping frame and failing mounts inside
the weakened shell caused decks to bulge, then rip.
Once metal ribs were strained and rupturing,
the captain screamed, “All hands abandon--

Then null. Inside the crushing, tearing core,
the blast is noiseless, lightless, sterile, numb;
for all on board that mark the piercing burst
are shattered; rendered earless, eyeless, dumb.

Close by, longshoremen dazzled by the flash
and sudden thunder leap behind their freight
to flee the soaring cloud and fiery hail
of twisted chunks of hull and iron plate.

Above, two circling aircraft’s wings are shorn.
Below, a wall of brine floods church and store.
The anchor, falling many miles away,
plunged into prairie grass, not ocean floor.

A nosy school girl peering out her house
is shotgunned by some unsuspecting panes.
She cringes, shaded by her hands, both cheeks
made bloody brooklets over jagged grains.

Drawn by the roar, a bar-room gawker twists
away from searing heat. Thrown off his feet,
the man is struck behind his head, then turns
around to drunkenly accuse the street.

In time, the fires were doused, and corpses clothed
in oil and silt were piled and tagged. Burnt bits
of flesh and disembodied limbs were blessed,
then placed in caskets dropped in earthen pits.


Background here.

A note on why I picked this topic, for anyone who's wondering: My mother lived in Texas City at the time of the accident. She was only six years old, but remembers her father (now deceased) leaving the house and going to the docks to watch the fire. He later told her he left the docks to go to a bar shortly before the ship exploded, saving his life.

During the blast, all the windows in her house were blown out, and her little sister got hit by shards of glass while playing inside. A palm-sized chunk of the ship's hull landed in her yard, and her family used it as a doorstop for many years afterward. My mother still has the inch-thick piece of steel, which was horribly deformed and twisted by the kinetic forces.

1st revision:

The squat and laden vessel sat in port,
a former sprocket in a war machine,
holds swelled with balm for distant, gore-stained lands
to make their bare and fruitless soil sprout green.

Unconscious errors spawned a horrid loop-
a high school chemistry mistake writ large,
as heat begetting heat begetting heat
makes sparkling fuses shrink towards their charge.

First symptoms were a fever underfoot,
a glowing abscess weeping smoke, and steam
erupting from a broiling hull. Men bathed
the orange embers with a meager stream,

but warping frame and failing mounts amid
the weakened shell caused decks to bulge, then rip.
Once metal ribs were cracked and splintering,
the captain screamed, “All hands abandon--

Then null. Inside the crushing, tearing core,
the blast is noiseless, lightless, sterile, numb;
for all on board that mark the piercing burst
are shattered; rendered earless, eyeless, dumb.

Close by, longshoremen dazzled by the flash
and sudden thunder leap behind their freight
to flee the soaring cloud and fiery hail
of twisted chunks of hull and iron plate.

Above, two circling aircraft’s wings are shorn.
Below, a wall of brine floods church and store.
The anchor, falling many miles away,
plunged into prairie grass, not ocean floor.

A nosy school girl peering out her house
is shotgunned by some unsuspecting panes.
She cringes, shaded by her hands, both cheeks
made bloody brooklets over jagged grains.

Drawn by the roar, a bar-room gawker turns
away from searing heat. Thrown off his feet,
the man is struck behind his head, then turns
around to drunkenly accuse the street.

In time, the fires were doused, and corpses clothed
in oil and silt were piled and tagged. Burnt bits
of flesh and disembodied limbs were blessed,
then placed in caskets dropped in earthen pits.

Now decades out, sole remnants of the day
are found in somber memories, high praise
for men who fought the flames, and doorstops made
from far-flung fragments scattered by the blaze.

Original version:

The squat and laden vessel sat in port,
a former sprocket in a war machine,
holds swelled with balm for distant, gore-stained lands
to make its cratered soils instead ooze green.

Unconscious errors spawned a horrid loop-
a high school chemistry mistake writ large,
as heat begetting heat infallibly
makes sparkling fuses shrink towards their charge.

First symptoms were a fever underfoot,
a glowing abscess weeping smoke, and steam
proceeding from a broiling hull. Men bathed
the orange embers with a meager stream,

but warping frame and failing mounts amid
the weakened shell caused decks to bulge, then rip.
Once metal ribs had cracked and buckled then
the captain screamed, “All hands abandon--

Then null. Inside the crushing, tearing core,
the blast is noiseless, lightless, sterile, numb;
for all on board that mark the piercing burst
are shattered; rendered earless, eyeless, dumb.

Close by, longshoremen dazzled by the flash
and sudden thunder leap behind their freight
to flee the soaring cloud and fiery hail
of twisted chunks of hull and iron plate.

Above, two circling aircraft’s wings are shorn.
Below, a wall of brine floods church and store;
the anchor, hurled an hour's stroll away,
sits moored in prairie grass, not ocean floor.

A nosy school girl peering out her house
is shotgunned by some unsuspecting panes.
She cringes, shaded by her hands, both cheeks
made bloody brooklets over jagged grains.

Drawn by the roar, a bar-room gawker turns
away from searing heat. Thrown off his feet,
the man is struck behind his head, then turns
around to drunkenly accuse the street.

In time, the fires were doused, and corpses clothed
in oil and silt were piled and tagged. Burnt bits
of flesh and disembodied limbs were blessed,
then placed in caskets dropped in earthen pits.

Now decades out, the day consists of plots
of land with bronze historical displays,
grim memories, and rusty doorstops made
from far-flung fragments scattered by the blaze.