The Fable of Don TACO

A Satirical Forest Fable in Rhyme by Forest Moss © 2025

In the land of Americarta’s sun,

There lived a loud leader who called himself "One."

He wore a gold crown shaped just like a shell,

And claimed every deal he made turned out swell.

“I’m spicy!” he boomed from a tall guacamole,

“My tariffs will fix every dip and cannoli!

I'll tax every foe, it’ll all be just dandy—

Then I’ll tweet out my power while eating some candy.”

He flared up at trade with a furious zest,

Shouting, “This time I’m serious!” pounding his chest.

Markets shook hard and investors turned pale—

Then TACO retreated and canceled the sale.

Each time he declared, “Now the levy is law!”

He’d swerve when the Dow dropped a single claw.

Then backpedal gently and smile with a pout—

A pattern emerged: he kept chickening out.

He threatened new tariffs with grand, fiery boast,

Then backed off the burner when markets got toast.

The pundits all muttered, “This stew’s not that great.”

And so was born TACO—too mild for the plate.

Jesters drew memes of a taco with wings,

Running from sauce and trade-war flings.

With feathers and slogans he fluffed up the game,

But each spicy bluff left the shell just the same.

When pressed by a goose from the northern estate,

He shouted, “Fake news! That’s a nasty debate!”

“But sir,” said the goose, “you just raised the wall—

Then lowered it nightly. Is it even there at all?”

The markets grew wise to his backpedal beat—

They shorted the sizzle and bought up retreat.

In trading-floor forests, a tactic was born:

The "TACO trade" rode each bluff he’d adorn.

Then came the Day of the Great Chicken Dance,

Where Don tried to bluff his last big advance.

But no one reacted. They’d all seen the show—

Just bluster and breadcrumbs wherever he’d go.

So ends the tale of the taco-shaped boss,

Wrapped up in ego, fear, flip-flops and sauce.

He puffed up with spice, then shrank from the flame—

A taco who folded when truth called his name.

Moral:

He who wraps bluster in bravado and boasts of his bite—

May melt like soft cheese when the stove gets too bright.

For a leader who flips at the faintest dissent…

Is best served with napkins, not long-term intent.

Let me know if you'd like illustration prompts, character designs (e.g., Don TACO as an eagle-taco hybrid with golden hair), or an “Author’s Note” in Forest Moss’s voice.

Why I Wrote This

By Forest Moss

This fable was stirred up from the spicy stew of satire, markets, and memory. The term TACO—short for Trump Always Chickens Out—entered the public fryer as Wall Street traders began tracking the heat and retreat pattern of Trump’s tariff threats. Each time he flared up with economic bravado, a retreat soon followed—leaving headlines hot, but policy lukewarm.

I imagined Don TACO not as a villain, but as a seasoning blend of ego, unpredictability, and performance art—one that left investors guessing and chickens clucking. The fable format lets us wrap this pattern in rhyme, flavor it with humor, and serve it gently to readers of all ages who are hungry for clarity.

It’s a reminder that leadership is not just about shouting spice—it’s about the substance underneath the shell.

Read more stories like this at:

The Trade That Wasn’t Fair – Forest Fables by Forest Moss