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