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