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