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