doctor_alice requested a poem about James Bond on a slow day.Flirt with Moneypenny, twice. Ogle the new coffee girl.
Look, reports on varied things. M wants them read. Give that a whirl.
Flip some playing cards in a hat. Throw the hat across the room.
Go down to the shooting range. Moving targets, in the gloom.
Wash your hands. Go wait again. Smoke too many cigarettes.
Think of things done and undone. That's the business. No regrets.
Something else that you could do? The Bentley -- is in tip-top shape.
A married woman, for tonight? Her husband's sailing round the Cape.
The vodka's waiting, in a drawer. Some sprinkled pepper in the glass --
for bathtub stuff. Cuts fusel oil. Not for top shelf. Let that pass.
Get some water. See the mirror. Sweep of hair, and scar on cheek.
Hoagy Carmichael, Leiter called you. So long as you don't look weak.
It's a slow day. Hit the pub, then. Fix the hat upon your head.
Meet the other double-ohs. Bet on how soon you'll be dead.
