Not as well. . oh well ( A poem to be spoken aloud to a 4/4 tempo)

I have a full plate..
full load..
loaded but only on the cusp of overloaded
tee-tee-ter-ing on the edge of whelmed,        and over whelmed.
days of classes,
papers,
tests,
for the hope of a better days to come,       come on over,
its nice,                              i think...

i hope.

that I am making the right choice.
artistic passions dont pay bills,    but they pay my soul.

looking forward, to the days, i can be first and free.
pack up and take off. with letters home, to the kids.
about the adventures.
my traveling heart is not content... yet. . . dont know when it will be. . .

wish i could travel and take pictures of it all.
instead of listening to NPR, wishing to be the inbedded journalist.

correcting papers, and pictures. . .
happiness comes in the 2 pint size packages of kinder's
1 of each.
mini-us's

baking banana bread and cleaning house.
the shadow work of industrialized nations. wishing for simpiler times.

feminist revolution you have failed me again.
yet i hope for the sake of my children to change things.