Regular Poetry

The coffee was steaming when Doc took off his wig

we didn’t even know he was wearing.

We found a hat within a hat.
It went that way for many months.

That was for I thought I knew better.

Another hat emerges and someone kicks it.

It hurts, like reading a poem with an understanding,

an oar passing over the water, dripping in an orbit

only a few astronomers can comprehend.