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