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