Songs of the Starcleaners

Songs of the Starcleaners

Long ago we swept huts, renewed the rushes
on the packed-earth floor. Then we wiped wood;
next stone.

In offices we learned to use miniature
vacuums on keyboards, special cloths
on monitors.

We sang our songs,
to which no one ever listened,
while we made everything fresher, better.

Later came the starships, and still
we were more cost-effective than robots.
So we sluiced spacesuits, dusted the bridge,
mopped the holodecks.

When the ultra-rich bought planets,
massive crews of us were flown in
to scrub the seas and tidy continents.
Generations of us lived and died there,
with our own culture, our own art.

Still no one ever listens to us
or our songs. And in ten thousand years,
when the casual owners of the future
survey what they own, they still
will not hear us, will be unable to see us,
however bright the shining light
from the stars we polish.

This was published in my collection 'Erratics', and also online.