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