Ogden’s Muse’s Friend

I know he’s Ogden’s Muse’s Friend,
Who rhymes to put an end to end.
He’s always boiling all day long
Fomenting yet another song
Which Ogden’s Muse regards and tears,
And legs him out without his fares.
So, when he pleads upstairs for cash,
He sees the teeth of Ogden gnash.
He fast retreats into his lair
To fall about his falling hair
In rising cones on carpetry,
Which teach him laws of geometry.
He squints at scraps of paper torn
Until he sees the verse reborn:
With spellings at the ends of lines
Distorted like two valentines
Who change themselves to rhyme themselves
Though truly they are cryim’ themselves.
He smells his uppertunity
And crosses uppatrinity.
He pulls a paper, puts to use,
And runs again to Ogden’s Muse
Who sees his new integligence,
Forgives his former negligence,
And promptly pays him with a check.
He takes it with a whattheheck.
As zeroes, commas seem too few,
He gurgles up an interview
With Ogden and his mandible
Which looks so outofhandible,
He hesitates to make his plea
And head-n-tails uneasily.
He starts to question existence
And grateful for his legsistence,
He waterfalls into his lair
And heightens up his cones of hair.
He turns the check and writes some verse
But tears it with a beeping curse.
He plants the scraps inside the leaves
Of Pelham Grenville’s _Write Ho, Jeeves!_.
He woosters at his rummy plight
And dreams that money sprouts at night.
The dream becomes a wake up splash:
He sees the teeth of Ogden gnash.

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