You all declare you’re normal but you’re weird.
You look around at others, diagnose
behaviors as autistic that appear
to differ from your own. You’re weighing gross
criteria when subtle is the game,
and every trait’s a spectrum or a span.
There isn’t any justice in the name
of mental health, applied to everyman.

So one’s incapable of drilling down
the question that is paramount to him.
Another has to count her steps or frown.
A third confuses attitude and whim.
I have no friend whose edges aren’t rough,
but everyone is doing well enough.