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