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