Ray by Scot Young

Ray got outta prison in 82
pulled up on the job site in a caddy
trunk full of sansabelts,
banlons and a dozen leather jackets
big bob said
fuck ray, we don’t wear that shit
got any flannel shirts & jeans

narrowed his eyes
like eastwood in hang’em high
remembering the last thing
his daddy said right before he hit the ground
best part of you ran down
your moma’s leg

2 Responses to “Ray by Scot Young”

  1. Carter Monroe Says:

    Love this, Scot!

  2. Lol, kinda inspired by some other poets, write what you know huh…I worked with Ray in my life of a construction worker

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