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