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