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