The Everyday and the Eternal, submitted by Vlad. What pleasures of the mind the internet brings! One of them is definitely not the poetry of lumpy middleaged Jane Colglazier Carlton, who in addition to writing poorly rhymed and overly melodramatic poetry almost fit for a goth, drives a bus for the "specially abled". By "specially abled" I mean fucking retarded goof balls who lack the manual dexterity to tie their shoes and the presence of mind to not defecate in their adult diapers, yet retain a level of dignity on a plane wholly above Jane Colglazier Carlton. I am very happy she has decided to share this wonderful poetry with us!
I gaze into the eyes of my tiny grandson
The sleepy blue eyes of little Brandon.
So perfect is he, oh! so amazingly strong,
As he twists and kicks and stretches out long.
This precious little one, without much hair
So eagerly hungry, then burp goes the air.
They say serial killers and famous authors often share the trait of using three names to identify themselves. Jane Colglazier Carlton is not a famous author.
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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