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