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