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