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