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