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Aug 2019
I hear you, though I cannot see
Been blind since I was 13
Degenerative affliction got me
Nothing I can do, got this white cane
I’m listening to you
Including when you don’t notice
Like at the table to your right
I’ve been assigned to gather info
During times when you’re not uptight
Like at dinner at this fancy restaurant
Who would think I work for the Company
And do so at this haunt?

I know your voice well, I’ve heard it many times before
When you’ve been at embassy parties
I was near the door, my back to you
I heard all you had to say about those troop deployments
The retaliation then in play which I duly reported
And we dealt with that affair with one of ours
Stealth is my business, why I dare to be here tonight
With my good friend and confidant who watches out for me
Gives me cover on our jaunts

I hear everything, that’s what I’m trained to do
I’ve learned how to concentrate on everything that’s said
I can even feel it when you nod your head
And I’ve got this job, which truly I love
Good pay involving state secrets
Soon it will be time to leave
Then I’ll phone to my boss
Tell him what you believe
From my collection of secret agent poems, soon to be published.
Written by
Neville Johnson  Los Angeles
(Los Angeles)   
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