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