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