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