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