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