Squares

We all retain, at heart, a love of squares – the ones who wear pyjamas, say their prayers: staid Ministers of Minuscule Affairs, so sound at spouting homilies, splitting hairs, the Fred Astaires who wound up Red Adairs – you think the planet yours? It’s wholly theirs! Those unabashed enthusiasts for flares who spew soliloquies on stocks and shares, and somehow swell and prosper, unawares! Compliance officers, commissionaires – not Taras Bulbas, more like Tony Blairs, the sort who cook with Kerrygold, just for dares, and read about invisible repairs. Another thing about them – … oh, who cares?