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