The bodybuilder is very small. You could hold him in your hand if you really wanted to, but probably don\u2019t. He\u2019s always screaming, and it\u2019s this really high-pitched, god-awful scream. I made a little set of dumbbells and a barbell for him to hold over his head so the screaming seems more natural. I use his screaming as white noise at night. I count his reps to fall asleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I haven\u2019t cut my hair for six months. I wear a hat to cover its awkward growth. This is ok in the summertime, but I think a lot about what I\u2019ll do in the wintertime. There are other sorts of hats, but wearing them indoors makes it seem like you can\u2019t settle. Summertime hats indoors are just a little bit rude, but mostly alright. I tie my hair back into the puniest of knots while I drive,\u00a0or else I turn my hat backwards. This way, I can\u2019t rest my head against the seat. It\u2019s for safety.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sing a song and then another. I wish for there to be a song about the park ranger and his wife who propositioned me for a threesome. A song about how I said Look! A pile of coyotes!<\/em> and pointed nowhere and left. I\u2019d write the song, but I don\u2019t play any instruments. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019ll grow my hair for another six months. Another six years. Six more after that. I\u2019ll grow my hair out until I look like a pile of coyotes. Then I\u2019ll howl and howl and that will be the song. <\/p>\n\n\n\n ________<\/p>\n\n\n\n Evan Williams is a poet and essayist based in the Midwest writing on masculinity, surrealism, and the anthropocene. His work can be found in <\/em>DIAGRAM, <\/em>Pleiades, <\/em>Joyland, and elsewhere. He is the author of the chapbook <\/em>CLAUSTROPHOBIA, SURPRISE!<\/a> (HAD Chaps, 2022) and helps to run the prose poetry journal <\/em>Obliterat. He’s on Twitter @evansquilliams<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"