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