Ode to Bond. James Bond.



The art of the spy 

Does not in conversation lie. 


The moving mouth must make way 

For the keen ear to hear what you say.  


A furtive glance, a pregnant pause, 

All used to glean effect and its true cause. 


No code unbreakable, no secret safe 

No silent missives to take to the grave. 


A gentle stutter and Freudian slips, 

Shall be coaxed from your red, determined lips… 


A loophole, a gap, an involuntary leak, 

Your heavy perfume cannot mask the reek…


Of the ugly truth in all its glory, 

Cooperate, or you will be truly sorry. 


The martini and seduction routine is fair 

But there is so much more, one could dare 


As these unfortunate villains are soon made aware; 

At the end of the day, Bond simply doesn’t care. 


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