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