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