some work

he didn't look
like himself, jake
says, on the phone.
jake has been drinking
since noon.
you can hear
him tapping out
a new pack
of cigarettes,
unwrapping, lighting
one up.
he found out two weeks,
ago, he says.
cancer of the gut.
two weeks, the doctor
told him to get
his house in order.
he didn't look like
himself lying there
in a suit, stretched
out and stiff
in that frilled coffin.
I don't know,
he says. I don't know.
he pauses to smoke
his cigarette,
the says,
so how are you?
got any work coming up?
I could use
some work.