All it takes to pen a poem in abecdarianese, is
boneheaded determination, and brains like Swiss cheese.
Craftier contestents avoid such unnecesary impediments; 
Determined to retain standards of excellence, they use their common sense. 
Even some newbies are perceptive enough to stay away; 
Fortunately, if you're on the ball, you won't go astray.
(Get to know your own limitations, and unerringly perform steadfastly within them,
having ability to persevere stoically, with sticktoitiveness thicker than phlegm.)
I have to stop here, and abandon this abecdarian aggravation -
Jettison the topic, change the subject - turn the dial to a new station,
knowing we now have the freedom to pursue other purviews, 
like literature, logarithms, and matters in the news.
Maybe even a smattering of racy contemplation, 
No bounds to bind me to a conventional explanation.
Only eleven days left to complete all twenty-six alphabet letters.
Prudent poets not participating, left this one to naive go-getters,
quietly tickled pink while others think, just because they know their a-b-c's,
rationally, they can do this new abeccdarian thing in their sleep - a breeze!
So, those prudent ones can be proud
 when they mention their abstention.
T, these days, (and perhaps forever) is associated with our president -
(unwilling to accept that he cannot be the permanent White House resident).
Viewed, in time, with the benefit of hindsight, history will reflect on wrong and right.
Why not take this opportunity, considering the next letter is X, to consider
Xenophobia?  (I didn't want to wax political, but the Prez has gone much too far.)
Yes, the end is near. I don't mean Armegeddon. Everything is fine - Z is next in line.
Z is zed. 'Nuff said.