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