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