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