James Bond and the Demimonde
After a yearlong, tedious hiatus
Cruelly wreaked on all of us
By a novel, evil coronavirus,
Our hardy group of men –
The same six elders as before –
Has assembled once more,
On a frosty Tuesday morn,
To renew our weekly breakfast
Date at the cozy Black Cat Café.
We have all survived the virus,
But now we pause to lament
The heroes who have, alas,
Passed on since last we met.
Lifting our coffee cups high,
We pay homage to our guy,
The recently departed Sean –
Sir Sean, if you please – Connery,
That venerable paragon of venery,
Who lives on in our memory
And who will be for all eternity
The original and inimitable
James Bond, Agent 007.
Inimitable he was, yes,
Too soon gone to eternal rest,
But we, his devoted minions,
Are inspired to reimagine
Our revered hero revivified…
From the world of dark matter
James appears, to counsel us on
The subject of breakfast etiquette:
Offer a crumpet to a strumpet
And she’ll sext your sextet
To facilitate a tete a tete
Or better yet a tit for tat --
A man’s a man for a that.
Thanks, James, you’re one of a kind,
And we’ll keep your advice in mind.
Now, as we tarry at our table,
We conjure a dramatic scene
From a James Bond movie
That never was but should have been,
A story true to the Ian Fleming genre
--Mystically revealed to us initiates--
Of James’s post-Goldfinger dalliance
With the ultimate femme fatale,
The nonpareil Mlle. Poussy Galore.
We recognize that Agent 007
After serial cinematic liaisons
With numerous courtesans,
Felt compelled to seek out Poussy,
His true soulmate and sole inamorata.
At last, James tracked his paramour
To the shores of the Cote d’Azur
(For Poussy a place of great allure)
Whither she had retired to savor
A life of leisure and endless pleasure.
James and Poussy ardently embraced
And enjoyed a long, loverly colloquy
Over several drinks of Grand Marnier
At a swell café in St. Tropez.
Bonjour mon coeur, Poussy purred,
I hope you’ve foresworn la gloire
And those bloody days of yore…
Let me hear you say ‘nevermore.’
So implored the much adored
Mademoiselle Poussy Galore,
Who then made James an offer:
Tu connais bien sur
Qu’ici toujours l’amour;
Reste quelque heures
Dans mon joli boudoir,
Accepte mes faveurs…
Et puis, je dirai bonsoir.
So, James Bond and Poussy Galore
Consumed the remaining liqueur
And in short order with great ardor
Consummated their historic affaire.
Years later James would insist
When recalling this galorious tryst
That he – let no one be mistaken –
Had been stirred but never shaken.
He hurriedly bade the nonplussed
Poussy a fond farewell
And was at once on the trail
Of yet another mademoiselle…
To you, Sir Sean Connery, we say
May the Good Lord light your way,
And may you at last find a haven
In the polyamorous heaven
That’s reserved for Agent 007.