Lord Sugar, for your new apprentice
why not try a wild card like me,
a poet who knows you’re an Aries,
with a maths Grade 5 CSE ?
My pills only work after nine,
so don’t ring me at six in the morning;
at least bring some coffee and croissants,
if you must drop in with no warning!
In business, I’ll be quite unstable,
either manic, or very depressed;
under pressure I swear like a trooper
and scream like a woman possessed.
As running around makes me dizzy -
I’m not in the greatest condition-
I prefer to do yoga at home
in the takeaway sofa position.
Though faultily wired, if inspired,
my style’s charismatic, neurotic;
I pitch like a goddess to experts
who find forty bean bags hypnotic.
I have an idea for an aftershave
'Plutonium X by Claude'.
Be careful how you use it,
it's not for the bland or the bored.
My ideas are light years ahead of their time;
to Karen, I'm some kind of freak
but my hazelnut haikus and astrobites
for t-shirts and mugs are unique.
Lord Sugar, look after your partner –
I’ve been stressed and rather unwell.
Can I test out my spa break idea
with champagne at a five star hotel?
I'll make it through to the interview stage
it's really not all that surprising
with a business plan covered in symbols
and Sagittarius rising
It’s clear that more verses like this
will take off like a Duracell bunny;
at under eight hundred a line
this poem’s great value for money.
Lord Sugar, your search may be over,
there's nobody else quite like me,
sharp, sensitive, semi-detached,
with a maths Grade 5 CSE.