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