"At Arles -- ask any ardent sergeant! --..." Why Do Adults Seem to Stiff Their Own Kids?: A Constrained Nonsense Alphabet in Rhyme

At Arles -- ask any ardent sergeant! – 
alch'mists' apelings 'ave no argent. 

Bern's the burg, Bosch Baed'kers note,
where boatswain's babes bleat, "Blast! No boat!"   

Come! Can Chur's and Coromandel's
chandlers' cubs cry, "Crap! No candles!"? 

Down Deale way, where I'd duly ventured,
dentists' daughters die undentur’d. 

East Egg's (despite laments and kvetchings) 
etchers' enfants earn few etchings.   

Face facts: in far Fuchu, folks learn:
"Few florists' fils effect free fern."   

Gents gaze, in Ghent, on ghastly scenes:
no grocers' goslings garner greens.   

Hants houses horrid habitats: 
her hatters' half-pints have no hats. 

Inside Indiana’s nice –
though icemen's imps cry, "I've no ice!" 

Jerus'lem's Jews (not jaded folks)
jaw, "Jesters' juniors josh, 'Sno jokes!'"   

Karachi: there (though such I'd not wish)
klezmers' kids keen, "Gosh! No Kaddish!" 

Learn late, you lot, of Lisbon's pox?
No local locksmith's lambs latch locks.   

My, my! Imagine Maine's ménages: 
moms' mites moan, "Missed Ma's massages!"     

Near Nome, you know, it’s nigh uncanny:
nursemaids' nips? No naps! No nanny!  

Odessans, oft despite their coughs, sing, 
"Old boys..." [oy!] "...disown odd offspring." 

Phnom Penh pals post re: plaintive scenes, 
"Poor penmen's prog'ny pine, 'No pen!'"   

Quite queer: Quebec's enquiring sorts 
quote quarr'men's quints: "Required? Quit quartz!"   

Right 'round Rabat, rash rabble rale, "Yeah...
ragmen's runts risk rude regalia." 

Such sights scar Seoul (so sad I'm feeling): 
shoppers' shrimps shan't score sans stealing' 

Torquay's twee teen thugs tweet, through grins,
"Tough! Tinkers' tots touch (tsk!) no tins!"   

Umps in Ulm? Well- (usu'lly) -cladded.
Umpires' urchins? Underpadded!      

Despite Vac's vibrant vines of Pinot, 
vintners' virgins vaunt no vino!    

Wien's wa-a-ay wild and weird ('tain't good!):
whine woodsmens' whelps, "We're without wood!" 

Xaio's xenagogues 'xude angst: each knows 
his xenlings don't know xis from rhos!  

Yemen's --yep! -- like Yap, you'll learn:
Yap's yogi's youngsters yen; they yearn! 

Zdvinzk (sic), 'though such seems sans-real –
there, Zen priests' zipsters? Zero zeal!