Someone said something about the geraniums that got back to the geraniums. That roses were preferred. That colors such as red are everything but. Gossip, you know, I said on the other end of the hotline, is bad, really horrible to the sniffling of the geraniums and told them not to jump. Imagine the difficulty of the outline in chalk on the sidewalk for he or she whose job is such art with especially your roots, I said while wondering what the relationship is between empathy and guilt and would I want my death outlined in pastels with a bunny added in the background or lava. You never really know if you’ve done any good with your life, so why not act as confused as everyone else is the philosophy I’ve evolved to fit my collar size and lack of control. I never tell the callers that the whole time we talk I’ve got a gun to my head and a knife at the throat of the gun and a machete somewhere, I lost my machete but found my grenade, what’s the saying: god never closes a door without breaking a window? And what’s the difference between aphorism and epitaph? Nothing but a headstone. A chisel.