Sloth

Nestled in his recliner,
His body oozes into the grooves, 
Filling up every nook, every cranny
Until a synergistic union of man and
La-Z-Boy is achieved.  
His eyes are unreceptive, half closed watching his
High definition plasma widescreen;
Yet they remain constant on the TV,
Like a doctor staring at an EKG 
Aware for changes or blips.  
The right hand’s on top the clicker, 
Burning off his body’s reserve
From the Hungry Man breakfast, lunch, and dinners.
Content to recline his life away,
The Sloth stays planted to his domain,
And camouflages with his environment
As the cheetos stains slowly cover his frame.

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