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?
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