Octopussy

by David Pascal

The Porsche exploded in the Berlin cold.
Flames blurted through its doors. James Bond had rolled
Out seconds before. He took aim past the fire.
Death slid out of his Walther PPK.
Three thugs of SPECTRE spiralled to the mire.
The third expiring minion of Blofeld,
A slim contessa whom last night Bond held,
Died sighing, "James..."

                                                Bond beat the croupier
At Nice with two red Knaves an hour after.
M phoned Bond: SMERSH in Minsk and Tokyo.
Bond lit his Turkish cigarette, said "Many
Regards to dear Miss Moneypenny."
Then 007 left to meet with Q.

The bitch was dead, but James Bond thought of her.