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