For Alan Dershowitz, who seems to have been having a really bad time on Martha’s Vineyard.
With Martha’s Vineyard shunning me,
Over the kids the White House stole,
I thank whatever gods may be
Opinion pages let me troll.
When invitations don’t arrive
I have not winced or cried aloud.
Watching my social prospects dive,
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond the ferry to Oak Bluffs
Loom lonely days and lonely nights,
Because when things start getting tough,
I call my friends McCarthyites.
From Clinton to Henry the Eighth,
I’ll speak to power flattery,
I am the master of bad faith,
I am the captain of TV.