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