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