I find myself
In an imposing boardroom
Lined in oak
For a job interview
On the long table in front of me
Is a sheaf of papers
I rummage through
(I) come across a brief, a job description
But haven’t time to read further
As the door opens
The interviewer turns out to be
She sits down next to me
I forget who she is
The questions she asks are very vague
I forget them too
I mumble vague responses
Question 10 is very clear:
“Leo, which British monarch do you most identify with, and why?”
I reply, with conviction,
I lied, I am very embarrassed.
Before I can apologise, the raincheck gets up and leaves the room.
She is obviously upset by my tactless insult.