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