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