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