Jake's Sunday calls

Jake would

call me from jail,

asking

me

for commissary money.

it was

a one way

call from the phone

on the jailhouse

wall.

the food is awful,

he'd say.

but my cousin is a deputy

here,

and says he'll go out

for some KFC.

i could hear his

roommates

banging

metal trays

against the bars,

threatening each other

with

deadly harm.

i'm going to bite your nose

off,

i hear one man say.

thirty more

days, i tell him.

just behave yourself.

and stop

calling.