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