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