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