Poem in Which There are Hatters

In which there’s the one at the tea-party.
He puts a dormouse in a teapot.
Then, with as much care,
take dormouse out of teapot.

Poem in which that mad hatter
can’t sit still, keeps moving,
another chair, another plate,
another cup, saucer.

Poem in which there are other hatters too,
a brim of hatters,
all wearing a hat,
all mad.

In which all hatters arte losing their teeth.
In which our mad tea-party hatter
might as well be named
The Soon-To-Be-Toothless Hatter.

Sheila Hamilton


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