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