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