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