Poetry | August 05, 2019
Poetry: Chris Hayes
Chris Hayes
Hey Y’all Watch This
I yelled it for the first time standing on a roof’s edge
like all those other idiots you’ve seen in videos.
Shirtless, greased with sun, ready to jump
onto a four-wheeler idling below
to impress a girl, but not just any girl,
my brother’s, who became his wife, then his ex,
tired of his addictions, which he learned
from our dad, who once drove his motorcycle
through a high school gymnasium. He didn’t wreck,
didn’t drown when he jumped off a bridge,
cannonballing into the Cumberland
to snatch a water moccasin
while his wife looked away. This phrase
branded across my tongue. Uttered everywhere
in the South, I heard it hollered
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