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