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