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