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