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