Matt Dennison Perfection Unless something is perfect I don't give a damn. But perfection includes the kitten my daughter found yesterday morning after a powerful storm, hanging by its front leg one foot off the ground pinched between shrub limbs with an eye so infected we thought the eye was dead, wished the kitten dead, immature maggots crawling the skin she scrubbed in the sink, scraped thick chunks of matter from the eye with Q-Tips duly sucked before using then took to the vet who set the leg, gave medicines for eye, maggots and dehydration and is now the purring ball of blue-eyed fur she carried to her grandmother's funeral this morning (which I did not attend as I did not like her grandmother or her mother) the day after I dreamed she and I were flying a very small plane, she piloting until I noticed the sudden influx of violent birds and WWII planes filling the sky so I thought I'll take over... at which point the plane shot straight up in the air and I realized I did not know how to fly a plane any better than she and we landed on her grandmother's house and her grandmother was very angry to have us uninvited as she had "people coming over tomorrow" but she was finally beautiful, skin so fresh, hair so sleek, and it was only when I awoke and remembered her funeral was today that I laughed. Perfection is often rotten, but it's all there really is.