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