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