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