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