by Dan Kaschel
I hate the word "hot." I hate the concept of perverting beauty until nothing remains but pure animal attraction; I hate that this word gives free license to make animals of each other. Physical beauty, though, is all balance; the right moment, the right angle, the right expression. With no context of personality, a long shot of a too-strong chin or a too-sharp nose will quite suddenly obliterate the fickle binary of "hot." That is, I suppose, my revenge: that to pursue such a word one must battle endlessly against the endless permutations of situations that decry it. And this is my compassion: that some such people may give up the struggle some day, despairing - and find that they are uniquely, heartbreakingly beautiful.
Dan Kaschel is a poet, rock climber, and poker dealer. He lives in Florida, seeking the joy of novel experience.