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