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