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