In The Kingdom Of The Weasel Poem by Raj Dronamraju

Autistic and holistic
Reporting from my blind side where the hurricane of humiliation rushes through the eaves
Despite there being a place set for nature, nature does not fit here
I never dreamed of empire

All hail the King Weasel
Whose term of office is one year
And whose people are tunnel vision and limited imagination

Philosophy lost or kept in the attic
When did culture separate from the rest of life?
At the end of his term, the King Weasel will be put to death
When did culture separate from the rest of life?

When the weasel delegation visits another less weasel nation
And they find the weasel delegation pretentious and ridiculous and unfathomable
And they look deeper and find drop dead Holstein poor loser automatons
Residing communally in clusters of small huts in the jungle
This is how they are portrayed by the National Geographic

For a weasel is off brand
Standards may have changed but we have not
Now you meet diplomacy in an undulating, bloodthirsty, familiar way
Standards may have changed but we have not