Eliza chose to plate her teeth
With gold and silver, then bequeath
Her fortune to the child with brass
To pick them clean: a thought so crass,
She hoped that it would end the feud
That split her greedy little brood.
no prose in posts or comments except as part of a comic or cartoon or an Andrew Peterson book review
no free verse. Free verse is bad prose masquerading as creativity.
no verse that is qualitatively indistinguishable from free verse,
even if some champion of formlessness has gone to the trouble of branding
and relabeling it as something else