This jolly metabolism is slow-witted;
tries to tie its shoes with mittens on.
Struggles to understand facial

expressions that might mean, “fullness”
or maybe “discontent.” It ambles
over to the crowd at the punch bowl

mumbles things that shouldn't be said,
causing us all to look at our feet.
Speak to it simply. It is easily confounded

by dance steps, bewildered by track
meets. Some people have metabolisms
that are like old friends. Out to lunch

they are trusted to make lively
conversation, listen to your problems,
leave a good tip. High functioning

systems not thrown instantly into
laggard apathy after every god
damned piece of sliced bread.