Rio Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I had to take my eyes off all the money,
inside the vault of New York City Bank.
I'd glimpsed the image of a real honey,
we had just driven through the wall in our tank.
It saved us lots of detailed and quite boring preparation,
and time was of the essence here today.
But here she sat, a visual sensation,
too bad, our job left little time for play.

My partners were now loading up the dough
into the turret of the Panzer, stacking tight.
This was my baby, I had planned this clever show,
which gave the customers and tellers quite a fright.
The vault was near impenetrable, so they said,
that's why we used brute force like Navarone.
Complete surprise made sure that not one person had
been quick to push a button or to use the phone.

Now, almost finished, I went to the other room,
to take a closer look at that delicious blonde.
And there she sat, but not in gloom and doom
as I'd expected that a hostage would demand
consideration, even pity at their plight,
they'd dream of stress leave and a bonus from the bank.
But what I saw was the most beautiful of sights,
so I turned over all command to buddy Frank.

To have a word with her, perhaps receive her smile,
and find the reason that she didn't seem afraid.
When she retrieved from the big desk a leather file
and looked directly at me, saying 'Is there shade,
within a walking distance from the western beach? '
And then she laughed and handed me a double folder,
I looked inside to ascertain from each,
and read some word fragments like passport, visa, holder,
there were two one-way tickets to a place called Rio,
when from within her ample chest these words appeared:

'It's quite alright, mate, I am from Down Under-
I am a specialist in spyware, I'll explain.
I'm in New York now eighteen days and do meander
in all the circles that do not wish to remain
the disadvantaged, money-challenged masses.
And for that reason make these plans like you just did.
Instead of sitting, moping on their sorry asses,
they deal in robbery and fraud and do their bit
to entertain themselves outrageously with plans,
that no mere mortal would consider even briefly.
And then surround themselves with just a few good fans,
then keep repeating those utopic stories chiefly
to talk themselves into the active mode per se.
And wipe objections, hesitation off the table.
Throw all their talent in the end into the fray
and start believing in their dreams, and that they're able
to do unthinkable, but somehow needful things.

And I have spied on all the groups of crazy dreamers,
to find the ones that I could call the real Kings.
Those are the ones that do not drive around in Beemers.
So, here I am, my friend, I hope you like my bod.
COCOCABANA is our mutual destination,
and forty million is as much as our God
has made available without negotiation,
and it will do my love, let's leave for JFK.

I've done my homework, early, finished all my sums.
One has to live one's life, is what I say,
as if tomorrow -could it happen- never comes.