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