performed for UniSlam competition 2025, Birmingham

I am your God of many faces,

arm embracing, trunk truncating

as you asked for it. As you scorned, ordered it

sat unassumingly awkward on the shelf

before you picked it. Brought, not bought,

and brang it to me as an ornament.

me: the product of the hundreds.

I will die waiting for you

to give me back what is mine, prepackaged

Like a bark you tore away

to make you warm, again

or a jasmine flower

turning from a seed, turning to the sun

fated to be plucked. placed

in your plant pot. Buying blossoms

for your eau-de-parfum

me: the product of the hundreds.

or am I the lotus?