Otherwise you end up thinking
"Hey, it's been a long time since I've even read, let alone written, a villanelle. I shall wiki it and see the structure again."
And then upon seeing the structure you will think
"perhaps I can do it. I've done it before, though never well."And then upon realising that you're not particularly feeling anything to write a villanelle about you'll end up analysing the word itself and seeing the word "ville" in it (though it isn't really there) and deciding that since "ville" means city you'll write about the city you once called home.
But you'll be an eensy bit proud because you actually managed to do it and all in the matter of a half hour or so. Even though you did engage in the trickery of half-rhymes - you also managed some decent alliteration.
"well, hey, I have a blog. And hardly anyone reads it. But that's actually a bit of a bonus cause now I can put this poem - this vilanelle, if you will - up there and it wouldn't be hardly as embarassing as if there were a hundred people reading it."
And the bonus is that you know someone will actually say something nice about it. Which, let's admit it, is the whole reason you've engaged in that charade.
And that, my friends, is the reason why you should never over-think the whole poetry process. Because then you end up with a mess, like grafitti sprayed on pristine walls, posted to your blog and your poor dear readers will have to be subjected to said mess.
Though I suppose they could just not read. After all, most don't (can you hear the violins). And you never did claim to be the next Dylan Thomas
And strong with stone,
Where footsteps ring loud.
In graffiti-hued tones,
Where footsteps ring loud,