Helicopter

splat
into that
big hat
goes the string
into the thing
that will always bring
the twist
to the mist
in the fist
but the rat
doesn't see that
the way the vat
of beer can.

so the Helicopter
flies to the doctor
to ask the protractor
why the world is blue
and why the sword is new
to the puddle of goo.

It is because
says the fuzz
the world moves
in tiny grooves
in the surfaces
of horses hooves