Acrostic on Sgt. "Jim" (N. Smithe-Magee)

An acrostic for an old Team Enlistment buddy, along with a tip of the kepi to the terza rima and its ABA, BCB, CDC and so forth rhyme scheme -- not to mention the iambic pentameters recalling...what? The Aeneid? The Divina Commedia? The FitzGerald translation of the Rubaiyat? Dylan Thomas's "The Force that Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower"? Whoa, Nellie! 

So-so it goes, for '-ons' there's always 'goings-.'
Gone, gone the way of sales slips: door-to-door,  
trad trade winds bait-'n'-switching Bibles, Boeings. 

Julia A. ("The World's Worst Poet?") Moore;
Iddesleigh, McKittrick, Ros's home;  
Myself by Edgar Guest, and sim'lar spore -- 

nor be there shame link’d -- chain-link’d -- to some tome,
some trophy house, some strophe-smitten verse.   
(My word! My own lies largely fill'd with loam.)   

Imps, idjits, imbeciles, inanes wa-a-a-a-ay worse: 
'tis these who (whos who, lonely, stand and wait) 
hold hope 'gainst hope to halt a passing hearse...

even as their switching hour runs late. 
(My words: how fleetly fled once fun's begun!) 
"And so it goes"? (So raps some reprobate.)

"Goes out..." Young Gunga Din's now "gunga done." 
Each Moore, each Ros, each uninvited Guest:  
Each ends, eating of pudding and of pun.