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