Sept 3 Daily Poem Practice

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The Trouble with Precepts

On Tuesday,

September Second,

(twenty one days until 

I had my last birthday

in my third decade)

I opened to Cato’s 

precepts, and read

the first five, thinking

that's all he wrote. 


I laughed, then, 

as I turned the page

and realized Cato–the man

had much to say to his

dear son, and thus the precepts

went on and on and on. 


liberos edui- teach your children

I found easy enough 

to romanticize, making a list

of the all other words

he did not say as permission

to not punish, but instruct

in a manner that one sees fit. 



meretrix fuge- flee the harlot

was a tougher one, I admit 

Could that mean slut? Why

was that word so easy to remember?

Why did it make me think of meros

the Greek for unmixed wine?


If I were a man, which type of 

woman would I hope my 

children flee? A woman who had sex for money?

A woman who enjoyed sex? 

A woman who had sex with more

than just one gender, one person? A

woman who eschewed marriage? A 

woman whose dress revealed all

her bodily secrets? A woman who flirted?

Who drank? Who swore? Who lied?

Who told and laughed at dirty jokes? Who 

went out, unchaperoned, after midnight 

just because? 


Am I not all these women? 

Are they not all me? 


Is Cato not all these women?

Are they not all him? 


meretrix, me edui

all the shadowy bits of myself

I wish to flee.


liberi, my only precept

for you is


it is so, and

all will be well.





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