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