Sista K. is chaining.. and making shells. With a bundle of "Aunt Fang" Yarn while I must sit and do my "homework" on the 6th floor of the Universities Library. How does this happen I wonder. She, my dear sister, sits enjoying her tea, crocheting a lovely hat while I painfully begin working on another semester of school. Making shells seems much more feminine and lovely.
Maybe I should reconsider the path of the successful career. Is it really worth the fuss?
Shells and Chains, Chains and Shells
A wonderful world it should be.
Little fluffs of winding yarn,
passed down from toothy lady.
Maybe, just maybe I will slip away.
NEVER more this work I say!
Hole me up in the woods.
Joy in such simple things.
Alas I go, again to filth
the mind afront with dying time.
The books the air chills me so.
A sister smiles and chains again.