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