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