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