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