'Let no other man handle what your
own will not do'. I read this once,
in a screaming sort of way, on
something pasted or written. It was,
perhaps, a fortune cookie, or one of
those things you get for a nickel in
a gumball machine. I so took it to
heart, though I never quite understood.
It had a delicious and vague meaning;
the sort of thing you misunderstand
as deep. Then there were the loose and
the heavenly skies to contend with as
well. Walking away, I remember stuffing
it - the little slip of paper - in my shirt
pocket, carefully folded first, but still being
most completely confused by the meaning.