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