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