There once were some angry left-wingers
They lost, so at Bush they hurled zingers,
Then along came a Plame
And her beau (he craved fame),
Of the “–gate” tune they soon were deft singers.
Imagined this mob, never ruder,
A Colson or Dean or Magruder.
So for years did they dream,
Hoped to change the regime,
But then all they could snag was a Scooter.
Accused of bald lies and obstruction,
If true it will bring his destruction,
But beneath was a leak,
And there’s still not a peek
At each source, of a crime no deduction.
While closer to home, there was Jimmy*,
Whose speakership oft seemed a gimme,
On his bandwagon rode,
Smoothly hugging the road,
Till of late, when it started to shimmy.
The shaking began with Miss Norris,
Whose paperwork filings look porous,
While rich contracts accrue
She works politics, too,
List her roles and you’ll need a thesaurus.
There once were two investigations,
Linked only by gross complications,
Will the truth be revealed
Or stay safely concealed
Until past statutes of limitations?
Hood is president of the John Locke Foundation, as of now.
* Speaker Black went to school with my mom at East Mecklenburg High School. She reports that everyone knew him as “Jimmy” Black.