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