Ant traffic jam

I was caught in ant traffic
so I went with the flow
but there was no
God save the Queen.

I was just a worker
a prisoner of our own making
to serve the Queen
and in return
given purpose.

I wanted to stray
but that was strictly forbidden
punishable by death
so we worked and worked
marching on, marching on
till death do us part.

While the Queen got fatter
we watched on
always monitored
by the guards
we worked, we marched
for little reward
and all for the nest.

We are not moving now
seems someone made
a run for it
but the soldier ants
have caught him
pulling the worker apart
as an example of defecting.

How I want to stray
but the traffic is moving now
I’m picking up on my antenna’s reading
and the Temple is straight ahead
to the underground.

Could do with new legs
especially the left back rear one
I think the knee has packed up.
I wonder who is mating the Queen now?
Some drone no doubt
doesn’t bear thinking about it
I’m just a worker.

Okay, looks like we have stopped again
must fall in line
it’s a roll call
soldiers are doing a count again.

I wonder how the sheep are doing?

Reviews

[Red Brick Keshner]

Absolute metaphor! One day last month a mate quipped about the life of wage slaves and here a poem has fully embodied this concept! Good to be reading your work again Andrew. Cheers, Rik

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you Red, nice to hear from you again.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we are the worker ants, but only the owners get rich by our labor.
The beginning of this had me singing a James Taylor song, "Damn, this traffic jam/ how I hates to be late."
Workers of the world unite.
j.

[andrew mitchell]

Thank you Jacob, yes we hold the fabric of society together.