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