I am sorry but I cannot accept the post of Prime Minister,
For there is little in my history that’s suitably sinister,
No financial irregularities, no offshore accounts,
No stock-piling of wealth in ever larger amounts.
No public school background, no Oxford, no Cambridge;
No late night liaisons with the head of a pig.
My character’s flawed also, it pains me to say;
I lie – at best – only three times a day,
I have shown compassion, empathy, contrition,
So I’m afraid I am unsuited for this position.
I am sorry but I cannot accept the post of England Manager,
For whilst I tick the box entitled ‘well-meaning amateur‘,
I worry that my grasp of tactics is too strong,
That I might be able to understand what is wrong
And how to change it. I can also be meticulous
In my preparations, a trait which would be ridiculous
In any manager. I have a track record of winning games,
By creating teams, not just picking names,
And getting them to stick the ball in the goal,
So I’m afraid I am unsuited for this role.
5 thoughts on “I am sorry but I cannot accept …”
I am always so delighted when I check my email and find a poem from you. They’re invariably topical, clever, and riddled with mischief.
Thanks, Sherry. That’s really lovely to hear. I do enjoy a bit of mischief, that much is true.
I’m in the US – for the last 30 years – had given up ever laughing out loud again, at least at wit and mischief, Trump’s another story. Bloody beautiful British humor. Thank you, Brian, feel as if I’ve just been rescued.
Thanks, JJ. What a very kind thing to say.