Far From Perfect

 Far From Perfect

In another life, I was a Latin teacher,

and I have a sneaking suspicion I was the bad kind.

For example, I'd  tell the students perficio was Latin

for I thoroughly do, to show off, a little, but also

to pontificate about my theories on life and meaning. 

Like a math teacher, I'd scribble down my proof- 

each red principle part with it's English meaning in green.

Then, woosh!

I'd spin toward them with a ring-master's enthusiasm, 

after having underlined the past participle,

and offer a little dramatic pause.  

"So you see, class," I'd say, as if presenting the verb’s final trick

to a room full of…well, teens whose hormones

raced due to anything but Latin, whose eyes darted to the clocks

 hidden in their pockets, tucked under their desks, 

sometimes boldly behind their books,

"you never want to be perfect-

because having been thoroughly done, 

if you really think about it,

would have to mean, obviously, 

that you're dead."