a glass remembers jazz,
its rim hums a tired halo.
the spoon—
still dreaming in citrus dialect.

a bottle stands beside,
green spine of forgotten laughter.
it knows too much about endings,
too little about thirst.

lines argue with perspective,
colors collide like ex-lovers.
shadows flirt in lowercase.

hypothesis: time ferments quietly.
counter-hypothesis: so do we.

DADA lifts the tablecloth,
finds the universe underneath,
sticky with sugar,
radiant with spill.