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