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