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