Road Workers

by

Erin Donahoe

© 6/18/01

(Unrestricted Club Use)



"I'm fairly bad at explaining why I write what I write, it just sort of happens, really. I was trying to develop a relatively original concept for an underground people on the planet. I always liked the idea of creatures that shunned the sunlight, it was a slightly horrific image. But I wanted to do something that I hadn't seen before, that was familiar enough that others could expand on it. So I decided that my underground dwellers would be a people based loosely on the concept of ants, combined some of the images I had in my head (these ornate, large, underground cities; the fear of sunlight and an under-dweller's perception of it) and then just decided on an image I could paint with words."


I scrape repeatedly at the dirt and stone
above me, with claws sharp and heavy,
and when that fails I start again
with my mattocks, plinking slowly
at the newest tunnel we are building.
The ground above us rolls,
I have seen it, when the eyes there
are shut,
and I worry a little, about striking the surface
and being blinded by the burning orbs.
The ground above us weeps,
and I worry too about hitting a water pocket,
and flooding the tunnel, though
so far the worst we've found are drips.
I have the cave-ins prepared, though,
knowing that I will be trapped to die
if I must trigger them.
What is my life, though,
compared to all the fine work we have done?
I have already widened the length of the passage
all the way from the main burrow
to the market chambers and their
ornate scrollings, forced to travel on my knees.
The queen will be most impressed with
my work, or so I hope;
I want to make this a passage
she will love.
I have already transformed the two
drips to catch in small delicate pools,
and next time through I will fashion
benches for her to sit and rest her
many dainty feet.
I will make this passage tall,
to suit her long, willowy form.
Her silvery hair, and large
silver eyes, will look wonderful
in the grottos I will make.
The stone in this part shimmers,
making me think longingly of her...
it will be a beautiful place,
when I have finished my work.



View our Universe
Images - Fiction - Poetry
Science - Creator - Chronology

HOME