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