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