The name’s Bond, James Bond.
I always say my surname first,
then my full name.
Habit I picked up at school.
I suppose I wanted to make sure
people heard what I said.
I wanted to emphasise who I was.
That way my name would stick in the mind,
like a fingerprint on a wine glass.
Some might say it was a sign
of a speech impediment,
a psychological defect or character flaw,
a hint of existential ego-less ness.
That is for others to decide.
Became a Secret Agent. Top Spy for MI6.
Number: 007.
When in a casino or night club on a mission,
if people ask me who I am, I tell them:
the name’s Bond, James Bond.
Secret agents who work for the other side,
I never know who they are,
until the action starts, the shooting happens.
Maybe they are more secretive than I am.
Some big bosses of the  other side
know me at first sight,
without me having to introduce myself.
“Mister Bond, glad you could come.
What a privilege,” they say.
But I can see right through that,
especially if the speaker has a bald head and an eye patch.
Anyway, them knowing who I am spoils things.
I prefer to say who I am myself.
Always dress smart, shirt, tie, suit, trousers, shoes, socks,
underpants, vest.
Don’t need to go to the gymn to keep fit.
I do things like leap from a skyscraper roof
to hang onto the landing blades of a helicopter,
to have an aerial boxing match with its pilot.
Another time I swam through the port hole
of a nuclear submarine, to have a deep ocean shoot out
with its captain and crew. Nearly got harpooned,
had to wrestle a couple of sharks, real ones I mean,
hammer heads, with teeth and fins, not crafty poker players,
devious dice merchants on the roulette wheel.
All part of my job, to stop megalomaniacs and other
master criminals from holding the world to ransom
in an attempt at universal domination.
Can’t out run a train, like Superman,
but that’s just a movie.
Worked that out. Done with trick photography.
I don’t have to book a foreign holiday, either.
Get sent to exotic places on a mission.
Last time it was the Alps.
Some Spectre agent attached dynamite sticks to my skis,
but I soon blew that plot away.
Crashed through a hotel window, doused the flame
in a bowl of blancmange.
Have no real private life. Sometimes hook up
with a double agent. Once I went one better.
She was a treble agent.
Remember the name, Bond, James Bond.
If you don’t see me around,
it’s because I’m not there.



4 thoughts on “Bond”

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