His smile is fixed in porcelain,
pat as his tossings of toddlers.
The chameleon of character,
he luxuriates in the ever
changing hues of eloquence,
dazzling his audience with the
fine,
crystal prisms of his words,
pulling them from his pockets
like rabbits from a hat.
A prostitute to constituency,
cold as the marble of hallowed
halls,
he glides on the grease of polish,
dealing his ethics like a deck of
cards.