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