Cups and Spoons

sound
little prints of heroes
riding south
on shadows mowing the grass

used saccharine contraptions,
these fulls in mouth
cavitying principles
down boulevards of second hands ticking

and
 
figures waking up clocks
with a halving palm down on twelve,
losing count of morning sidewalks

they tick over flavours of coffee
on the register
and sit as cups and spoons awaft

they hope in whisks,
plated soluble trajectories
from ceramic lips to ceramic sequences inspired
by busy nostrils.