To Ogden Nash My Mentore-
Your rhymes were so geniously simplistly eloquent.
Better than anything before you came, or since you wuent.
They gave new meaning to the word ‘intent’.
I often wonder as I ponder –
If Ogden Nash had lived to be a hundred and ninety-three
the world of poetry would certainly have been blessed
with a masterfully myriadical montage
of wittirhymes and verseilines and perponderings in excessed!
(and he wouldn’t be dead yet either)
What a clever persona was Ogden Nash,
Expounding his truth as well as his trash.
Some works proffered wit,
Some others pure grit,
With most saturated in balderdash.
À Bas Ben Adhem
My fellow man I do not care for. I often ask me, What's he there for? The only answer I can find Is, Reproduction of his kind. If I'm supposed to swallow that, Winnetka is my habitat. Isn't it time to carve Hic Jacet Above that Reproduction racket?