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