the black frontier
Mary's command to one and all
while all the world found doubt go forth, be brave, thou chosen ones and take the hairpins out. Your comet sense is wearing thin, the tiles of oceans past, present the stains of further gains that linger to the last. Don't ask the steadfast soldier there whose broken speed bump lies, Why the orange pageant queen. burns her sightless eyes. She'll tell you of her minors, her majors and her main, then pick the four unmeasureables from your fiddle-faddle brain. You think your every timely turn, your leaves of hazard helm, will keep you from Wisconsin and save you in the end. But no amount of whining or your merry, greenly sneers, can slow the trembling empress. Behold! the black frontier |