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