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