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