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