Maggot always gets his man…
Wherever they go.
However far they flee.
However cunningly they hide…
Maggot enters the Ol’ George:
legendary menagerie of care-worn dreamers.
This evening’s vibrantly clad gathering part to allow him to the bar.
His ‘thirties’ hat and summer rain-coat are still the heir to respect even in a place of ghosts.
‘Curious location for a meet.’
Maggot never questions his sources: the food and drink of his success.
Maggot takes a corner-table.
Out in the street the night is glowing gold…
Later… when moved,
a dart of tiny pink-and-blue feathers
drifts from his neck.