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