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