In Limbo

The wretched problem with Ticketmaster and the Tickets to the Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival reminded me how I'm in Limbo.   don't live anywhere, I don't have a name, an occupation, and existence  I don't live in Detroit or in NY.  The people in Detroit thingk I'm still in NY and the people in NY think I'm in Detroit.  I'm not really a writer or a poet or a photographer or a writer or a scientist or an educator, I'm not even a proper wife or mother.  I'm not sleeping but I'm not properly awake.  I can't go backpacking and I can't sing.  And I'm too tired to explain why.