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