Succulents

Leave me your succulents-
insecurely watered,
emotionally absent
Indifferent purple lobes
spilling from your basket in spades

Not beholden to the sun
With no fruit nor flower,
No nectar nor aloe,
Nor points that prick

But silently the succulents mock
the glamour of the lotus
the elegance of the pine

Snubbing nature's favorites
grow these waxy apathetics
with hardly a care to consume