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