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