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