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