Thursday, December 16, 2010
The Would-be Spy from DHS (Department of Homeland Security)
Sitting at a corner table
Hidden in the back
His skin showed sort of sallow
His hair showed solid black.
The book that he was reading
Came from a secret shelf
In the White House library
He'd checked it out himself.
With hooded eyes he scanned the room
Searching secretly
But no one even looked at him
Knew his identity.
Wire glasses framed his nose
Hair fell in his eyes
He couldn't see so very well
But it was a great disguise.
Laughing females flitted by
Tossing heavy hair
Eyes of black and teeth of white
They didn't see him there.
But one would see him soon enough
A warrant he would serve
He'd find the curvy traitor then
If he could find his nerve.
Her crime was writing in a blog
About the president
She said he was a dunderhead
With brain like Pepsodent.
Now that's a great big no-no
Under the new laws
You can only write the truth--
The prez ain't got no flaws.
Everything was in the book
The Plan for Patriots
And those who fight the DHS
Are plainly idiots.
He found her name and where she lived
And took his gun and cuffs
He even stopped at church to pray
In case things got too rough.
But she was much too smart for him
And when he rang her bell
She was long gone out the back
He chased her, tripped and fell.
She left a note on which she wrote
That she was quite impressed
She thought him cute and said to call
Her at her new address.
Our would-be spy went sorta nuts
This sounded like a ploy
But she was quite a pretty girl
And he was, well, a boy.
So off he went, to apprehend
This fearsome criminal
This time she answered when he rang
Her clothes were minimal.
She said that he should come right in
And she would make a drink
And did he like her slinky gown
Or was it much too pink?
She took away his coat and hat
And then she took his gun
'Cause she was innocent you see
Just looking for some fun.
The DHS would never find
Their youthful would-be spy
He disappeared, was swallowed up
He left them high and dry.
But he's still out there with the girl
They're doing a lot of stuff
They've learned how to have a ball
With just one pair of cuffs.
Copyright © 2006 & 2010 by Jacob Anson. All rights reserved.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
Hahaha! Very clever, Jacob! How smart of him to stop off at church. I guess his prayer was answered...and then some.
I was grinning, but I don't have a comment as good as EG Wow's comment. Nice story, well told. I know it's still legal to write the truth in books, but I do wonder if the guy who wrote "Where Men Win Glory" has or will get major hassling. That was some book. I just finished it and sent it to Lee.
That's quite something, dear Jacob! Sort of sinister and at the same time amusing... :)
God bless you!
Cezar
Jacob, I read your invitation to come see your poem on both EG's and tapirgal's blogs, but you don't mind me here, do you? :-) For a sinister beginning, you've found a rather happy ending... at least for the pair. Wish that it was so in life too. There appears to be little appetite for truth these days. ;-)
Jacob, you're a hoot. I'm glad the two of them found each other.
My dear friend,
your poetry is so fluent and full of aptly words, sentences!
Juergen
:) VERY creative!!
Post a Comment