A Second Attempt at Ogden Nash Poetry

It really is very interesting to me:
this Nashian form of poetry.
While its subjects amuse me,
its meters confuse me.
I’ve never been able to rhyme without there following quite naturally a certain sense of rhythm.
(As I have expressed before, “…words have rhythm in them.”
Because of this, I find it extremely difficult to write a poem without meter.
And doing so now, I feel like a cheater.
But Nash created, embraced and mastered the technique,
publishing this new style in the New Yorker each week.
How he did it I will probably never understand.
For when it comes to rhyming without rhythm I am completely and unquestionably outmanned.
I don’t mention this to in any way disparage Mr. Nash.
He is one of only three poets for whose work I have actually paid out cash.
I quite enjoy his words and rhymes.
And read aloud those I find most appealing to my wife and friends at times.
I’ve even learned to read them well;
consciously pausing after each sentence to allow the gist to gel.
But in efforts to date, I have not been able to duplicate his work.
Despite my best intentions, I find myself in a perpetual poetic Dunkirk.
As evidence I offer the above alliteration.
And resign this, my second attempt at Ogden Nash poetry, to eventual obliteration.
Progress, though—it must be said—has certainly been made.
And despite the use of meter here, I deem my homage paid.