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