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