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