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