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