The friend that I need to call, but never do

Remember when
we watched The Texas Chainsaw
Massacre in that weird little
coffee house on 124th Street.
I nearly shat my
head out when the fat guy put
that screaming lady on that
meat hook.
Afterwards, we walked
to Kwik Stop and bought
an Arizona in that long can.
The street was dark. I tried to laugh.
That was a crazy time
right?
Remember the guy
who smoked two cigarettes
at once. I’m sure you do.
We laughed for days after I
knocked over his friend’s Coke can
when he was in the bathroom.
How much of a jerk am I?
You couldn’t have forgotten
the guy’s defeated cry (“What happened?”)
as he saw the damage I had done.
I could barely contain my laughter
when he asked if we saw anything
and I shook my head like my life
depended on it.
The cashier looked at him like he was out
of his mind.
We must have told that story
a million times,
but I don’t remember anyone
ever laughing at it, but us.

Joseph Martini is a poet from Miami, Florida who studies creative writing at Florida State University. In his free time, he likes to collect comic books, play chess, and reread his favorite poems.