You Can’t Get There from Here (1957) is a later collection of Ogden Nash’s signature light verse, showcasing the poet’s matured wit and linguistic dexterity in the postwar era. While retaining his trademark whimsy and irregular rhymes, this volume reflects a subtly sharper edge, with Nash lampooning modern inconveniences (traffic jams, bureaucracy, suburban sprawl) and human follies with his characteristic blend of charm and exasperation.
The title poem—a riff on the classic New England directional phrase—captures Nash’s knack for turning frustration into comedy, while pieces like “The Strange Case of the Lucrative Compromise” skewer corporate doublespeak. Other highlights include “The Purist,” a four-line gem about a fastidious fish, and “The Germ,” a playful ode to microbial havoc.
Though less famous than his 1930s–40s work, this collection proves Nash’s wit remained agile even as America grew more complex. His mockery of consumer culture (“The Clean Platter”) and technological “progress” feels eerily prescient today.
For Nash enthusiasts, this pairs well with Bed Riddance (1969), his final collection. Newcomers might prefer I’m a Stranger Here Myself (1938) for his early, zanier style.
