Wily Poem by John Weber

Sneaky Pecore the Weasel
plays political games
until shadow puppets
dance on fabric walls
for petty amusement.

When wrangling for more
he can't ignore the power
of crisis to vault him up
as savior once through
diminishing his rivals.

If news runs slow,
fear must be promulgated
by self-inflicted wounds
to galvanize matters
along a spectral line.

Once contemplated as
manipulation, he'll parade
his family to garner
sympathetic sighs
seeking humanity.

Only when confronted
does his luster tarnish
behind arrogant grunts
hoping to motivate
retreat or surrender.

The day runs short
for Sneaky Pecore's ways
as people demand
more than dramatic
posturing for points.

So he calls upon
fellow rodents of the globe
to clamp a suffocating lid
on the wills of those
deemed inferior.

Until such machinations
drift on currents of indignance,
I shall always remember
that once credibility gets tainted
all words from liars disappear.