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