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