So who ever thunk That Tenet’s “slam dunk” Was really the chunk Of intelligence junk That got our boys sunk In quagmire gunk? But he, with no spunk, Stayed mum, like a punk, And helped sell this bunk ‘Til all went kerplunk, And then packed his trunk. Like Powell, he’s shrunk.
Calvin TrillinCalvin Trillin is The Nation’s “deadline poet.”