I like a good rhyme. Even better, I like a good rhyme that shouldn’t actually be a rhyme but the writer has decided to shoehorn one in anyway. On a totally unrelated note, I also like to prop up broken furniture with books or other bits of broken furniture and I tend to carry a roll of duct tape in my bag, just in case something needs mending.
Anyway, let’s take a moment to celebrate one of the rhyming greats: Ogden Nash.
Ogden Nash, who had his first job writing streetcar ads with the same company that F. Scott Fitzgerald began his pencil chewing (although I can’t quite imagine the creator of Jay Gatsby using his prose to flog laxatives or trilbys). Ogden Nash, who once fell in love with a woman because (he later reflected) her last name was Blorange and offered a solution to the fruit with no dictionary rhymes.
Ogden Nash, who when asked why he left New York for Maryland replied "I could have loved New York had I not loved Balti-more."
You get the idea. Here are some of the best extracts from his word mangling poetry:
And he said the world was round,
And everybody made an uncomplimentary sound,
But he went and tried to borrow some money from Ferdinand
But Ferdinand said America was a bird in the bush and he'd rather have a berdinand.
Bankers Are Just Like Everybody Else Except Richer
Yes, if they request fifty dollars to pay for a baby you must
look at them like Tarzan looking at an uppity ape in the
And tell them what do they think a bank is, anyhow, they had
better go get the money from their wife's aunt or ungle. (and)
And all the vice-presidents nod their heads in rhythm,
And the only question asked is do the borrowers want the
money sent or do they want to take it withm.
He’s also a master of brevity,
While still maintaining a sense of levity.