Tea
The Englishman gifted us
nectar from the gods, to be had
with two sugar cubes
and a dash of grovel, for taste.
The Englishman gifted us
seeds and whips
to make our own brown heaven
and crawl back to him
with gratuitous bounty.
Now I hold
facets of cut-up prerogative
magnifying bubbling ebony
with a hint of Elaichi,
worth all of ten rupees.
