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