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