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