Deal: Vibrating, a loud thumping in the ear Feeling the severe beat throughout the body A pressing of alcohol on the brain "Deal the cards, it is your turn, dumbass" Someone shouts in your sensitive ear Your head comes up as Beavis and Butthead Fill the television in front of you "It makes no sense," she says to fill a void "Yet it does make all the sense in the world" In a smoke induced haze you ponder this As the chaos of a good time goes on Is the total absence of normal acts The zenith of enlightenment we want Are we the few, who find no enjoyment In the constant inhaling, exhaling Of our behavior altering substance, The few who cannot see the light before them Are we the few who were not in line When the succulent wholeness of living Curled us into the meaning of all our lives "Deal the cards, it is your turn again" Someone shouts in your sensitive ear