Personal Appearance
by Tom Dvorske
The first time Karla shot me it didn't really hurt. There were red welts all up and down my arms and one big one above my left nipple. I took it as a sign that she didn't like me, or wanted something from me so bad she'd kill me for it. Either way, avoiding Karla seemed the logical course of action. I guarded my personal appearance more closely, keeping it at all times behind me, or always on the side furthest from the crowd. This was easier said than done. For a while, I went about my business, carrying business cards on the backs of mules. Ever worked with mules? They are surprisingly patient, and capable of arresting the finest of details from otherwise unimpressive vistas. Plus, they love going for a swim. Working with mules does wear one down rather quickly, especially when one is covered in red welts, which in time turn a rather romantic shade of purple. People begin gathering around one's purple welts wanting to know if they are tattoos or stars. Once a crowd gathers, it's difficult to guard one's personal appearance. I tried tying it to a mule and sending it on its way, but the mule was having nothing of my personal appearance. I slapped the mule's rump, an encouraging pat, yet the mule remained stubborn. Ay, I thought, this will never do! Just then, without any explanation, Karla shot me a second time, and slowly the mule carried my personal appearance over a stone white hill.
Tom Dvorske's work has appeared in Texas Review, Puerto del Sol, Spork, Terminus, Louisville Review, and other places. His chapbook "What You Know" was winner of the 2002 Taras Schevchenko Award for Writing and published by Lazy Frog Press. He's been a finalist for the University of Utah Poetry Prize and keeps hanging in there. He currently teaches English at the University of West Georgia.