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