Bond Girls
At age 7, never being one for finicky, pale and wan girls,
I saw Dr. No and my mind began jogging along a single track of glorious Bond Girls.
There was Ursula and Halle whose suits (like their hearts) couldn’t keep secrets.
But Vesper Lynd was one of those “We’ll make brainy love and then really bond” girls.
And Mary Goodnight, didn’t you know your golden-gunned man
could never be kept behind bars with an astronomical bond? Girls…
So sometimes, after a great day at work, I imagine myself the rogue: My pale blue trunks,
my Daniel Craig abs, returning home to a dirty martini and a dirty Bond Girl.
With my Cartier watch, my bespoke St. Laurent suit, all the advertisement
I’d ever need for the inevitable crushes of heaving, innocent Bond Girls.
But alas, like all things, Adam, the implicitly vulnerable tragically die
behind a pile of bills and emails and errands in your mind. “Here Lies Bond Girls.”
Dropped Calls 