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