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  The Stillborn Identity, a funny spy poem about an agent, possibly, by Australian poet Graeme King. ©kingpoetry2009.

You're welcome to download this flash spoken poem. Right-click HERE and choose SAVE AS. Open with Internet Explorer.

I thought that I could fool the CIA

They caught up with me down in San Jose

So now I’m in a cell at Gung Ho Bay

I’m tortured raped and beaten by the agents every day.


I wonder if they tracked me on the net

My emails were deciphered - that I bet

It must have been that chatty chick Suzette

You’ll never know how much I’m craving for a cigarette.


I exercise to keep myself in shape

I’ve hatched a plan to fool them and escape

My lawyer says there’s far too much red tape

He doesn’t know about the hole I’ve dug behind the drape.


Tonight I’ll sneak straight past the slack-jawed screws

They’ll be asleep from too much dope and booze

By Sunday I’ll arrive in Syracuse

And splash my sordid story on the Seven-thirty News.


The President will have to fire them all

The CIA will get an overhaul

This Watergate will be a waterfall

My good reporter friend is sitting waiting for my call.


I hear somebody coming to my cell

They’ll torture me again but I won’t tell

You wait until I quit this citadel

I’ll burn their bums so badly that they’ll think that they’re in Hell.


I wake up and the morning sun’s agleam

My head is pounding and I want to scream

Apparently it all was just a dream

Well, that’s the last time I get drunk on Bailey’s Irish Cream!

more of my FUNNY POEMS here

Original pictures by Graeme King ©Kingpoetry2009  BACK to TOP