I ought to take a compliment with poise,
accept a testimonial with ease.
But I’m as apt to croak a phlegmy noise
as speak politely. Seldom do I please
myself in shopping for another’s gift,
and I from what I hear don’t voice enough
appreciation in my thanks to lift
the hearts of those presenting me with stuff.

I may be on the spectrum, but it’s not
cognition that invokes a little strange.
Some manners I was taught and quick forgot,
as if I had permission to exchange
attention, and direct my energy
to plot perimeters of memory.