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