Maggots

Maggots, maggots oh lord, maggots they’re crawling through the cracks between the wood and they’re swimming through the mountains of trash in the white plastic bag that we left on the deck and they’re writhing on the floor before my feet like hostages at the mercy of their keeper. Maggots, maggots oh lord, maggots I’m running through the house taking deep breaths and I’m tearing off my red dress and my fiance’s red jacket (the cats are meowing) and I’m opening the door to the bathroom and turning on the hot, hot water of the shower. Maggots, maggots oh lord, maggots I think I see them crawling on my toes and they’re climbing up the shower walls and drowning in the drain water pooling in the tub and they’re scooting up my legs but wait, there are no maggots here, no maggots in the shower, none. But now what am I to do with the real ones?