Fat Cap                 
                                          
                  
                                          
 In Gardens Among Stones  Along The River 
 Grows  The Mushroom. Between  Ferns  And 
 Horsemint  Grows The Mushroom. Along The 
 Creek,  With  A  Reddish  Cap And  White 
 Stem And  Quirky Gleam In Its Eyes Grows 
               The Mushroom.              
                                          
                                     
                                          
 I Am  Dreaming. A Package  Has  Arrived. 
                                          
 Through  The Park I  Go To  Pick  It  Up 
 From  A Bitter Lady.  A Slot  In A Wall, 
 Lady  Inside,  Me Outside With The  Rest 
              Of The World.               
                                          
                                     
                                          
 Delivered Is A Ny fat cap, A  Nozzle (Or 
       "Cap") For Spray Paint Cans.       
                                          
 Through  Young Forest, Thin  And Rubbery 
 Whips Shoot Up From The  Earth. Kirskale 
    Around My Feet. Concrete Trenches,    
 Abandoned Gray Walls.  I Shall  Try  The 
             New Nozzle Here.             
                                          
 The Paint  Inside Comes  Out,  It  Comes 
 Like  A Massage Shower, It Comes  Like A 
 Thick And Slow  Beam.  Rich With Red And 
               Gooey Paint.               
                                          
 Doesn'T  Hit  Anything.  It  Keeps Going 
 And   Never  Reaches   The  Walls.  It'S 
 Forever Falling,  But  Nothing  Will  Be 
                 Stained.                 
                                          
                  
                                          
            I Think To Myself:            
       "New york Fat cap" Is Weird