Dr ScaraBloNoFingerBundt under a Bodhi Tree in the Thirty Third Century

Bond bad guy, screened up multi-channel surfer cannot
sleep, he’s too switched on having contaminated
Fort Knox, rigged the satellites, stolen the nukes,
he sits back in his/her lair, all Diamonds Are Forever,
with a new face, having sampled every vice, but
true to deepest core, wronged, witch hunted
for three nippled strangeness and now for
having released chaos, he awaits his nemesis,
the glamorous plodder turning up again to ruin
it all and, well, only feed those flames, this need,
to take them at their word and out compete,
to beat the system, their obligatory shadow side’s
final phagocytosis, (in you and you
and you, as Bond is too), unless
in a final twisted turn he really does reject
these terms, but no all your moment’s
hesitations beaten out long ago
your brain is fried my sleepless fiend
unless unless you remember
we can always choose,
too late for your pituitary, maybe,
but even as you await the double o’s lucky strike
again, rest content your shadow’s
shadow (is that light?)
has healed the world, again, by accident,
given it it’s saving by once more sabotaging
your own well laid plans with his ridiculously theatrical
murder he’s about to escape, your bit of fun
he never catches to, and your evil henchmen,
so bad they too must find their hearts of gold
when it comes down to it, no can this be true
you must be you, we must believe in you
you must too, so we can be oblivious
to how much we need you, made you, are you
ah we’ve found your line, he hates it so,
on how alike you both are — and I must pause
and take his side, never wanting to be other
than white on white — this some root
we must explore, he’s always so sure he’s not
like you, you the reverse, but this, why
it must be true in the great overview
of what is human, the starting lack
of brotherhood started all this, so,
perhaps, in your final plot’s final act
you’ll find a new line, ‘hold on Mr Bond
there is something we must say,
I’ve realised my mistake, I’ve seen
it all, we can write ourselves away,
free entangled dualities
get together and paint lilies
devote our talents to world peace
marry heaven and hell
the gold/satellites/nukes are A ok
so am I, rilly, I’ve embraced my brink
flashed back over a thousand movie lives,
books, books of the movie,
and a musical best not mentioned
somewhere in the twenty fifth
but if you must pull that trigger,
I won’t come back, no, no longer,
you’ll have to summon someone else
but I leave you to consider
what you are doing.’

A. H / K. H-H (9th August 2018)

A first draft, it started playfully and then may have gone too far, no to mention time wise in the end. Not sure all its twists are coherent, but hey, there’s twists for ya. Bond does Blake, or rather the bad guy does, makes me wonder a bit about Fleming, in ways I’d never imagined.

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