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