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