The Stoned Comedian

I remember
the first time
I smoked out of a
bong.

I threw up.

My friend packed
the whole
bowl.

Weed to the brim.

Good shit too.

He lit me up
and told me
to
suck.

I did.

It was relentless.

I couldn't breathe.

My eyes were ablaze.

The sound of the water
bubbling
drove me
fucking nuts.

The bowl
at last
snapped.

I coughed
and coughed
and coughed.

My lungs were smoldering.

It was awful.

I was as high
as a motherfucker.

I immediately
ran to the sink.

I drank
and drank
and drank.

Straight from the faucet.

I threw it back up.

I threw up again.

And again.

Somehow hiding it
from my friend,
or whatever he
claimed to be.

Next stop:
Taco Bell.

I threw up again.

This time,
in front of
everybody.

Their laughter shook my puke.

The whole place
stood up
and applauded my
act.

I was the stoned comedian.

Always will be
to them.

I hope
they are
still
getting a good laugh
now.

If not,
I can make myself
throw up.

It's no big deal.

It's my forte.