Maggots

The maggots One morning in the village, millions of maggots At the cemetery appeared protesting about hunger. They merged into a big fat pink ball with tiny feet chanted: we want more corpses, the supply side has let us down It had been hitherto a healthy village few people died those who did were elderly with meagre flesh The day after the covid struck, the supply was fine despite nurses and doctors valiant work to stop this avalanche of untimely death. As for the maggots, not a pip from, say, complaining of too much to do.