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