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