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