Those who protest may do by filling writs. Their disappointment shall be noted. I find no longer viable the holy bond between prose and poetry and declare the two divisible. Though prose and poetry are free to remarry, I would wish they allow for sufficient time to recover from their strife. The legal doctrines governing divorce and dominated by concepts of canon law apply.
I grant a decree of divorce on the basis of incapability. Albeit there has risen examples of adultery and abandonment. I make invalid their marriage. I dissolve all ties between prose and poetry by powers invested in me by the Roman Catholic church.
The separated state shall commence on this day, February 20th, 1998. I grant absolute divorce. The marriage-dissolution granted to both parties. As the two were both innocent and injured. However, in the face of considerable evidence, Poetry shall be able to obtain relief (that is, monies) from Prose who has done some wrongthe recognized grounds for payment may be attributed to willful misconduct, adultery, nefarious bad language, desertion; habitual drunkenness; conviction of a felony and impotence.
The offenses amounting to cruel and inhuman treatment.
Their brief marriage has caused much concern. The conflict of irreconcilable differences. All attempts have failed as renew vows between prose and poetry. The actual viability of the marriage had not a chance in Hell. They got on each others nerves.
Moreover, their love affair was mere infatuation, and as poetry is without fault. A good kisser and well-mannered and perfect in every way, she could not be expected to sustain her vows with the glump, which was prose. He was a dog. A man of devious intent. Prose was a drunken sot.
Poetry was angelic. Perfect. Musically inclined. Intelligent, beautiful, not given to vulgarity. Well-bred, most proper, not all jaunty. Poetry was cherry cheeked.
I declare the two separate and apart. Proses gruffness and poetry genteel nature proved glaring and at odds. Incompatibility for this doomed marriage. The two bickering in public places. Throwing fits. Harsh words between the two have passed.
Not since their honeymoon have they felt the wild passion. Indeed, after the first month they stopped holding hands. Whispers soon turned into shouts. Harsh murmurs. The endless misunderstandings, spats. Strident and clumsy the collapse of loves union.
(The incompetent matchmaker who put the two together has been reprimanded. How preposterous he should think that poetry would endure the oaf. Sloppy dresser, vagrant, bigamist, loud mouth, braggart, cigar smoker.)
And with solemn and sincere apologies do hereby grant prose and poetry divorce.
Respectfully,
The Literary Magistrate